Critical Mass
by Firestar'sniece
Summary: Alagaesia is on loan by the Olympians to Unulukuna. But their term is done, and the Olympians want their world back. Meanwhile, a dragon hatches for Eragon. Galbatorix's tyranny grows. Deemed by the gods as the rightful king of Alagaesia, Percy must outwit both the empire and the Varden and secure the world back to the Olympian gods. To do this, he must claim his rightful throne.
1. Chapter 1: A Whole New Problem

**I don't own Percy Jackson or Inheritance Cycle.**

 **This is a semi alternate universe and takes place somewhat in the future.**

Chapter One: A Whole New Problem

(Percy Point of View)

A sigh escaped Percy. Junior year was hard, and it was even harder when you were a demigod. As heavy as such a backpack of trouble would have been for others, it was even harder when you were a demigod.

As he walked along the sidewalk, he frowned when he saw Triton coming towards him. Groaning internally, he watched as Triton, in modern jeans and a t-shirt walked towards him. That could only mean one thing: training.

Out of the sea, Triton had black hair and sea green eyes, his Mediterranean look matching Percy's in such similar ways that no one could deny that they were related. When he walked up to Percy, the young demigod did an awkward bow and muttered, "Lord Triton." The god nodded to him in a cordial manner. Now that he was getting along with Triton and Amphitrite, things were much easier.

Assuming a mischievous grin, he continued, "Prince of the sea, ruler of the golden-"

"Ahhh!" Triton put his hand to his head and held up the other hand trying to stop him. "Don't! You know I don't like that!"

Percy chuckled. "If I were a regular mortal, I would be required to call you at the very least Prince Triton."

"But you're not," Triton muttered softly, eyeing Percy up and down with worry. "You're neither mortal nor immortal, just like every demigod and legacy. You're something in between with the immortality that runs through you."

Percy shrugged. "Yeah," and there was that. Something was off, he knew, but he also knew better now than to ask. Triton was holding something back.

They stared at each other slowly for some time before Triton motioned him further. They walked side by side. "You know you're to be a god," he began. Percy shuddered.

"Yeah," the demigod somewhat stiffly replied. At least all the seven, plus Nico, and their future spouses would be gods as well. It was practically forced on them. He then turned to Triton. "Is there something going on that I should worry about?"

Hesitation ensued. Finally, Triton nodded. Water traveling them, they landed in the vast ocean, inside Triton's personal palace. Percy was surprised. He usually trained in his father's palace, or occasionally Amphitrite's when his father wasn't present. Percy didn't know why that was. But he'd never been to Triton's personal place before.

It was huge, just like all palace's were, and it was made of gold. The seashells strewn along the wall glowed with an olive glow. The room was vast with a vaulted ceiling.

When Triton caught him staring, he motioned him forward. He was now in his merman form. "You'll have a chance to look later," he summoned him, going to sit on his seashell throne. After seated, he looked at Percy, his fin twitching slightly. "When you're a god," he added mischievously.

Percy smiled. He liked it when his jokes were returned. After that, they both stared at each other, Triton silently observing Percy. The two had grown surprisingly close, especially since Triton was initially hostile to Percy. But, they had become close.

Finally, Triton sighed, waving his green hand in the air. An image of a far away land with vast mountains soared in front of Percy. "What's this?" he asked.

Triton frowned. "There are many pantheons, Percy. I know you've encountered some of them. The Olympians also govern many worlds as well. You have other half siblings and cousins on other worlds. However, this world hasn't been governed by the Olympians for some time. It's been on loan to another pantheon. But their term has ended, and as such Zeus has demanded this world back. Once everything is complete, Poseidon shall retake his seas again in this world, and I shall retake my rightful place in these seas beside him. Amphitrite shall be queen of these seas again."

As Triton looked back at Percy, the demigod nodded. He waited for Triton to continue as he knew that everything wasn't being said. Finally, Triton continued. "You've been chosen to be the next King of Alageasia, the only legitimate and true king. Only someone appointed by one of the gods can rule legally and legitimately. It's sad, but the mortals don't seem to follow this rule anymore on this world, or on this one I'm showing you. Not so on other worlds."

Triton paused and then continued. "Jason already has his own empire as a reward. So does Annabeth and the others of the Seven. Nico is the ghost king. That leaves you, Percy. You are a child of the gods. Only a child or a descendant of the gods has the right to rule. No mortal has that right. And the gods are the ruler of them all. Once you are a god, Percy, this will truly be your empire. But as a demigod, you will rule as king under the direction of the gods, especially Poseidon. Poseidon had the right to choose next who he wanted to rule one of the lands, and he chose you."

Shaking, Percy took a step back. "King?!" he echoed.

"And emperor one day," Triton added, watching Percy closely.

Percy was beside himself. He didn't know quite how to respond. "They need to be guided by the gods, Percy," Triton cautioned deeply. "All the children and descendants of the gods are legitimate princes and princesses. They are known by title of the gods they are children and descendants of. You are a prince of the sea; you always have been. You may not have realized that your whole life, and while the gods are not necessarily in the attitude of telling their non immortal children and descendants this, but they are legitimately princes and princesses. You're royalty. You already knew this. You CAN rule."

"But we're talking about an entire kingdom!" Percy protested, waving his hands wildly. The sea began stirring some. Why on earth hadn't his father brought this up to him personally, and instead relied on Triton to tell him?

"And I'm legitimately king of the Golden city," Triton smiled wryly. "I'm a king as well. But don't go calling me that since you're not my subject. You're father's child. However, since we're on the subject, you should know that your coronation is not immediately. Since you are the next king, you are needed to clean up this nation and to rid the land of the last illegitimate king it has. Since it's in the midst of transferring back to us, and since you are the rightful king, this pantheon of gods has conceded for you to come to this land.

"You're going to clean it up, and you're going to reinstall the rule and worship of the gods. Finally, this nation shall honor father as their patron. I'd like to ask that mother and I also be given special prominence in the kingdom as well. But when you are a god, you'll also be patron and they shall more especially honor and worship you."

Shaking, Percy felt the sea quake. It was a lot to take in. He already watched Annabeth try to fulfill her major responsibilities with her empire, and it seemed difficult to manage. He wasn't sure how he was going to do this.

"Peace," Triton held up his hand. "You don't have to think about your coronation yet. All we ask is that you clean up the nation and reinstall the worship of the gods."

Shaking, Percy nodded. Triton stood up. "Good," the god responded. "I shall take you back to your home.

With a wave of his hand, they were back at Percy's apartment. Triton left him there.

His mother or stepfather wasn't home when he came in. He didn't care. He just wanted some time alone. It always seemed that whenever the fact that he was royalty was brought up, something unexpected and frustrating happened.

Laying down on his bed, he thought about what was asked of him. But as he thought on things, and as the shock wore off, the thought that this meant that Annabeth was technically a princess before she was Empress was pretty cool. He'd never thought of that before. And the fact that he was prince and future king...

"Prince," Percy said firmly. "I'd rather a prince than king."

Sighing, he fell asleep.

(The next day)

It turns out, he didn't have to wait long for things to get frustrating again. He was in Mr. Dill's class when the speakers came on. "Percy Jackson to the front office, please. Percy Jackson to the front office."

Everyone stared at him as he got up, sighing. He wondered what it was now. It wasn't until he saw Triton arguing with the woman at the front desk that he wanted to cringe.

"I demand Percy's release now!" Triton pointed his finger down. If only the woman knew it was a god she was arguing with, then maybe she wouldn't have argued back.

The arguments stopped as he approached. "Percy, do you know this man?" she pointed rudely at Triton.

Percy frowned and grimaced. He didn't appreciate the mortal's attitude. "That's my half brother you're talking rude to," he coolly remarked, and he didn't miss as Triton's mouth twitched in satisfaction. "I'd appreciate it if you'd treat him nicer." 'If only so that he doesn't incinerate you on spot,' he added rudely. He'd hate to clean up that mess.

The woman was in shock, mouth open. "Oh," she began, and then turned back to Triton. "I didn't realize that he had a half brother."

"He has many. Father has many children," Triton added wryly.

"Oh," the woman began again, somewhat awkwardly. It was well known that Percy didn't talk about his father or that side of the family. "I wasn't aware that Percy knew his father's side of the family."

Triton raised his eyebrows innocent. "I thought you'd met Annabeth?" Percy grimaced more. Of course Triton would bring this up.

"Annabeth!" the counselor asked in shock. "I thought she was Percy's girlfriend!"

"Girlfriend and our cousin," Triton pointed out. "Once removed."

The woman turned back to Percy, a peculiar expression on her face. "You're dating your first cousin once removed?!" Her voice made it sound taboo.

Triton shrugged noncommittally. "It's not uncommon in our family to marry family members. It's quite common in fact." With that, he began towing Percy away as the woman's mouth was in shock. Percy decided to call out for good measure, "She's my fiancée, by the way!"

"F-Fiancée?!" the woman gulped, gasping for air.

"Father and Percy's mother and Annabeth's parents gave permission!" Triton chuckled. "It's common in our family to marry the children off at a young age!"

As Triton pulled Percy to the door, the woman still in shock, she seemed to recover. "You can't take him!" she screeched at Triton.

Triton turned on her, full power on his face. The woman cringed. "And why not?" Triton demanded. "I'm his brother."

"It-it requires the legal guardian's permission. That's his mother!" The woman stuttered.

Sighing in frustration at the mortal, Triton put his hands in his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. "Fine!" he snapped. While Percy didn't catch the whole message written, he saw his mother's signature on hit. 'What is it?' he asked Triton mind to mind.

'Father requested it of your mother,' Triton added.

'And why are you taking me?' Percy prompted further as the woman read thoroughly through it.

Triton frowned. 'So many questions!' he replied in amusement. 'Don't forget, Amphitrite is your mother too, by adoption. She's requested your presence.'

'Ah,' Percy folded his arms. He couldn't deny his new mother anything. But he had a strange feeling that it was leading to what Triton had showed him yesterday.

Once again, the woman read through the paper. Then she sighed. "Very well," she put the paper down. "I'll have to get to the record transfer tomorrow. A private tutor, of all things! What, is your father royalty?"

An amused smile was on both Triton and Percy's face. She had no idea how close she was. Shooing them away, Percy followed Triton. "You have a plane to catch," he heard the woman grumble one last time.

When they were outside, Percy turned back to Triton. "Tutor?" he demanded of his half brother to know. "Is that what this is about?"

Triton shrugged innocently. "It's not the lady's fault if she doesn't know how schooling happens in other countries," Triton vaguely replied. "And the request of records was for just in case."

"I'm moving?" Percy demanded?

Triton shrugged. "Not really. At least not right away. In the day time, you will be tutored by mother, but at night you'll return to your home. We'll be taking your education over from now on. We did this so that, even though you're not in school, you'll have time to say goodbye to your friends at school."

Nodding, Percy sighed. At a motion from his brother, Percy concentrated and vapor traveled them to Amphitrite's palace.

Amphitrite was there waiting for him. "Percy," she acknowledged.

"My lady," Percy bowed, remembering his manners.

The woman smiled warmly at him. "I trust that Triton's informed you of everything? Let's begin!"

(The next day)

"You what?" one of Percy's mortal friends with red hair exclaimed.

Percy sighed. Sometimes he wondered if manipulating the mist (which he could now do) and showing them his true demigod nature would make things easier. "My father sent me a tutor," he told the story that everyone had prearranged. "He thought, that since I was growing up, and since Annabeth and I are engaged, that I should get a proper education, uphold the family honor and everything."

"I still can't believe you're dating your cousin!" the redhead exclaimed, some jealousy in her voice. She'd never believed he'd had a girlfriend until Annabeth showed up. And then, she'd always been jealous of her. But it was only now that it had come out that they were related. It was part of the story they were telling. And he'd never meant to announce his engagement and marriage, but the new story had ruined all that. Some of it was true, though.

"If it weren't for the fact that you were dating her, I'd have thought it was an arranged marriage!" Serena, the redhead, continued to gossip. Charles, the brown haired athlete on the swim team, second to Percy, James, the blonde who was in chess club nodded with Selena.

"Yeah, well that has been done in the past," Percy confessed under his breath, thinking of Zeus and Hera.

"But why now?" Charles pushed. Percy gritted his teeth. He'd wanted his marriage to Annabeth to be quiet, attended only by demigods and close relatives.

"Because," Percy strained. "It's family custom through father's side. We marry young. We always have. It's the family's expectations. Now that Annabeth and I are closely dating, they want us to marry to preserve the family's honor. In fact, lately we've been marrying later than it's customary and approved of."

"How young is too young?" Charles frowned.

Sighing, Percy replied, "It's usually expected that we marry at fourteen in cultures that accept it. Twelve is the family marrying age."

"Too weird!" Serena scrunched up her nose. "And to think you're going to be the only married man in this high school."

"I'm being tutored, Serena," Percy spelled out slowly, sharply. "I'm not going to high school anymore."

Serena pulled back. "Oh."

An awkward silence ensued. Percy knew he needed to head home soon, or some monster might find him. And so, he began jogging away. "See ya!" he waved.

They waved back awkwardly. The last thing he heard was Serena's voice.

"I think it's an arranged marriage."

(A few months later)

Poseidon stood in front of Percy with proud eyes. Percy stood in full armor at his throne. Amphitrite was practically glowing with pride, dressed in her full regal glory. Triton was in merman form, floating beside Percy.

"Father," Triton announced. "Percy is ready."

Poseidon nodded. "I know," he murmured softly. Then he shook himself out of his reverie and sat up straight. "I'm proud of both of you. You are indeed the best heir that any king can have, Triton. And you will make a great king, Percy."

Percy raised himself in pride, glowing at the compliment. He was different now, more mature, more ready to rule. And though he was still nervous about inheriting a kingdom, for the first time, he believed he could do it. "Thank you, father."

Nodding at him, Poseidon lapsed into silence and looked at his wife. Amphitrite clapped, and several of the mermaids swam towards Percy, a chest placed in front of him. "You will not be without a friend, my dear son, Perseus." And with that, the mermaids opened the chest.

Percy gasped in shock. Before him lay a dragon's egg. It was Alagaesian, that he knew. He'd come to know the history of every culture the Olympians associated with intimately. Looking up, Amphitrite nodded. "My gift to you will help you on your journey. She was made out of the sea, created in the image and the race of the Alageasian dragons. While not born of them, and instead born as a creation of the sea, she is indeed one of them. They will sense her and know she is one of them."

Bowing deeply, Percy felt tears coming to his eyes. He knew what this meant. The gods were going to help rebuild the race of the dragons. "Thank you, Royal mother," he knelt in front of her.

Poseidon stood up next and clapped. This time, merman sat a chest in front of Percy. Percy opened it and gasped. Inside was a golden bow carved with seashells in it, the wood a sea blue. It had the power of the sea in it. Percy had spent a lot of time with Apollo and Triton until he was finally able to do archery with grace and ease.

"I trust you know how to enchant things to always return to you?" Poseidon asked in amusement, something Percy had begged Poseidon to teach him.

Bowing, Percy acknowledged Poseidon, "Thank you, Royal father."

Nodding, Poseidon looked at Triton. Triton smiled and clapped his hands. "Little brother," he teased.

One mermaid and one merman swam a tiny chest towards Percy. This was the fanciest of them. "You may always summon it with a thought, Percy," Triton began explaining. "It doesn't matter where you're at. It doesn't matter if you're even on a different world. If you want it, it will always appear on your head, and the box will always appear beside you."

At first, Percy was confused at what his brother was saying until the merpeople opened the box. He gasped. Inside was a princely crown, a mark of his identity as a prince of the sea. It was made of coral, gold, silver, and precious jewels of the sea. Pearls studded the crown. Kneeling, he greeted in an emotional voice, "Thank you, Royal brother. I shall wear it with honor."

The merfolk placed it on his head, and Percy stood up. "You were born a prince, Percy," his father began. "And you've more than earned your place. It's far time you take your rightful place amongst the godly family."

Tears of gratitude flowed down Percy's face. "Father, mother, brother, I shall not let you down," he pledged. "On the river Styx, I shall restore to you what is yours."

A brief thunder echoed, and they all nodded at him. "Those are grave words, Percy," his father warned. "But I know you will succeed. Go, my son. Claim your kingdom. Restore Alagaesia to the rightful gods."

Percy bowed once more, and then he swam to the surface. As he emerged on the beach, his faithful steed Blackjack awaited him, dressed in the royal horse garb of the sea.

Percy mounted him. He would wait until he reached Alagaesia to take the egg out and let it crack for him. "Come, Blackjack," he summoned. An adventure awaits us."

(Eragon Point of View)

Walking back from the forest, Eragon looked behind him. Saphira was doing well and growing more than ever. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hide her in the forest. After all, she would scratch the trees and leave poop that was the size of a boulder.

Sighing, he walked back to the village. Already, he missed Roran. But when he went to the village, he noticed a stranger there, someone from one of the caravan, he suspected. He'd forgotten that they were coming over.

Brom was trailing the man, suspiciously enough. He caught up to him. "What's up?" he asked.

Brom looked around wildly. "Shh!" he hissed and followed the caravan man into the pub.

They sat inconspicuously in the booth a couple of feet away, yet still close enough to hear the whispered conversation somehow. The man was talking to another man from Carvahall. "What's the latest news?" the Carvahall man asked.

The man shrugged. "Yet still, two years later, that rumor is still going around. Some strange prophecy and all that."

"What prophecy, Alma?" the man demanded.

Alma sighed. "Oh, I don't really know! The dwarves do, though! It's before the elves arrived! They say there used to be gods before the gods of Alagaesia. They say that the old gods, the dwarves remember. And apparently there's a prophecy that in a time of need, the old gods will return and claim their rightful land again. Then, says the prophecy, the rightful king shall rule."

"Rightful king?" Albem asked.

"Yes," the man asked. "Apparently the old gods appointed all the rulers of the past. They say the kings are not legitimate unless appointed by the gods. And the prophecy says that the gods have appointed a king who will come at a time of great turmoil and restore the land to the gods of the old."

Eragon listened in shock. This was the first time he was hearing this. But as he turned to Brom, he saw that Brom had his face hard set. "Brom?" he asked quietly, hoping the historian might know something. "What's he talking about?"

"Just a bunch of superstition," Brom firmly replied, standing up. "Come," he pulled Eragon up, and dragged him out of the pub. "It's nothing to worry about. Off you go to home."

Eragon didn't like being pushed around, but after asking Brom about dragons the other day, and Brom purposefully taking his glove off, he wasn't going to start anything more with the man. The man began walking away.

Walking home, he shivered. The night was cold. It wasn't until he was attacked from behind that he began screeching.

It didn't take long for Brom to catch up to him. The creature was hooded, but when Brom began banging him with his stick, it began running away.

A fearful look was on Brom's face. "Head home, now!" he demanded.

Eragon didn't wait. He ran. But it wasn't until he saw his home burning that he ran harder. Gasping, he saw the creatures attacking his home. When they saw him, they turned around. 'Eragon?' he heard Saphira say into his mind.

The creatures ambled towards him, but they didn't get far. A mysterious rider on a black horse with wings with a glowing bow and arrow showed up. After firing three silver arrows, the three creatures exploded into dust. When the creatures in the distance saw him, and saw their counterparts incinerated, they ran.

The stranger ran up to Eragon. "You okay?" he asked, a hint of an accent on his tongue.

Eragon shook hard, but he ran into the house. It was completely collapsed, and he felt Saphira flying towards him. The hooded rider took off his black cloak, revealing himself to be a young teenager, slightly older than Percy. He had black hair, green eyes, and features that weren't quite Alagaesian but were definitely human. He was also dressed with jewels in his armor, which covered his entire body, the under clothing having hints of gold. Whoever he was, he was wealthy. He followed Eragon into the house.

Digging through the rubble, Eragon found his uncle barely alive. "No!" he whispered, as the man's breath came out of him in a wheeze.

"Peace," the stranger soothed. "It can be fixed." With that, the man began whispering in a mysterious language, and Eragon's uncle gasped, convulsing a little.

He sat up slightly, watching his wounds heal. "How-" he asked the stranger.

The stranger shook his head. "Rest," he commanded. "You need to focus on recovery." With that, the man walked outside.

Eragon glanced at his uncle. Taking him in his arms, he dragged him outside. He needed to get him to the village healer. Eyeing the man's strange horse, he asked, "We may need a ride to the local village. I need your horse."

The stranger grimaced. "Not a horse. Pegasus. And ordinary mortals aren't allowed to ride them."

Eragon didn't have time to ask the stranger what he meant when the young man sighed, waving his hand. Suddenly they were back in the village. Eragon was confused at first. He wasn't really sure what had happened. But he also didn't have time to contemplate it now with Garrow's life on the line.

It didn't take them long to enlist the help of the village healer. While they were there, the stranger headed out, everyone looking at his strange clothing in awe and curiosity.

The man went into the woods. But when Eragon followed him in, he wasn't there.

"Hello?" Eragon asked. He turned around. The man was nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" he demanded again.

The forest was silent. Sighing, Eragon waited a few more minutes before heading out.

(The next day)

"Uncle!" Eragon gasped when he went into the room next door. Gertrude and her husband had kindly allowed him to stay with them while his uncle was healing.

"Eragon," Garrow roughly coughed, sitting up. "It's good to see you. Have you eaten?"

Eragon shook his head. "And what of our mysterious rescuer?" his uncle sat up, waiting for Gertrude to bring breakfast.

Shaking his head, Eragon sighed. "I can't make sense of him. He just disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Garrow asked in disbelief, shaking his head. "No one just disappears."

"Well he did," Eragon confirmed.

At that point, Gertrude brought breakfast. "Are you hungry?" she asked. They both nodded their heads. "Good." She set the tray down in front of them, and then Eragon served himself.

It was as he was eating, that he nervously glanced at his uncle. "I have things I need to do," he informed Garrow.

Garrow nodded, likely knowing where his thoughts were going. He knew that Eragon was going to try to find the mysterious strange. "See to it," he gave his permission.

Standing up, Eragon stretched, and then he jogged outside.

His first thoughts were going towards Saphira, but he wanted to check out the spot that the stranger had disappeared to first. As he entered the woods, walking for a ways, he came to a river.

All was calm until he was attacked from behind. Struggling to throw the weight off of him, he heard a hissing noise. "Dragon rider," it hissed.

"What?" Eragon gasped, screeching. 'Saphira, help!' he called, and with a final kick, he dislodged his attacker.

He was surrounded. About a dozen of the hooded creatures stalked towards him. "Dragon rider," he hissed. "Come with us! We make plenty of food of you!"

Picking up a stick, they attacked, and Eragon swung at the wildly. He gasped in pain as he received a scratch in his side. But he managed to knock one on the head.

It wasn't until he got pinned by them that he began yelling furiously. "We kill you now!" they hissed.

"Saphira!" Eragon cried out.

Suddenly, a whoosh sounded, and Eragon felt himself going underwater. He thought he was going to drown for a minute until the water lifted off of him. Wet, he turned around to see the creatures drowning in balls made of water, the mysterious stranger back, hands raised. With a flick of his hand, the creature's necks broke, and the teenager lowered his hand, the water returning to the river from whence it came.

"Must you always run into trouble?" the strange asked in exasperation.

Eragon stared at the teenage boy in shock. "Who-who are you?" he demanded, somewhat suspicious. This man only continued to surprise him more and more.

The stranger turned back elegantly.

"My name's Perseus Jackson, and I'm the rightful King of Alagaesia."

 **If you've read, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Winning the Lottery

**I don't own Percy Jackson or Inheritance Cycle.**

Chapter Two: Winning the Lottery

(Eragon Point of View)

"King!" Eragon gasped in disbelief. Suddenly, the mentions of the prophecy came to mind. Could it be that this young man was the fulfillment of the prophecy?

'Eragon?' Saphira cried, and Eragon felt her near. Even she could sense that something odd was going on.

"Rightful King," Perseus acknowledged. Then he turned away, his mysterious steed galloping up to him. He mounted the beautiful creature. What had Perseus called him? "Technically, Galbatorix is sitting on my throne." And a dissatisfied look came on his face. Reigning the horse like thing again, it began walking. Eragon ran up to walk beside him, careful not to touch him. It seemed such a majestic creature, more majestic than Saphira.

He heard Saphira snorting his mind. 'I shall be the judge of that!' She flew harder. The man looked up, looking in her direction, and while Eragon couldn't see her yet, he could feel her close. He got the suspicious feeling that the man could see her already.

It took effort for Eragon to keep up. "King?" he inquired again.

"And Prince," the man reaffirmed firmly. "I'm Prince Perseus, but my preference is Prince Percy. You may call me Percy for now. And do me a favor. Don't use my title."

"Prince?" Eragon echoed warily. He didn't like where this was heading. Already, he felt embroiled in stuff that he didn't want to be apart of.

It turned out that Percy was taking them back to Carvahall. The boy sighed. "My father is a king," he explained in exasperation and Eragon nodded.

Before they could reach Carvahall, Percy stopped. Saphira landed in front of him, and caution was immediately on her face. Silent conversation seemed to take place between them. Finally, Saphira voiced for them all to hear, 'There's something different about you.'

Percy shrugged, unconcerned. Regardless, Eragon didn't like it. Saphira was cautious and was already looking at him as if he had a right to order her around. "If you don't mind," he greeted her with a nod, and with that, he went around her, riding back to the inn at Carvahall.

Eragon was about to go around her as well when Saphira slammed her tail down. 'Be careful of him, Eragon,' she warned. There was worry in her voice and features. 'Whatever he is, he's powerful, more powerful than a dragon and a rider. I have no doubt that he told you the truth, but he did not tell you everything. I don't know what it is, but respect him. His very presence demands respect. I fear that if we do not respect him, we could wind up in trouble indeed. He seems to bleed authority."

Something about this shook Eragon. "What do you mean?" he asked aloud.

Saphira shook her large head, troubled. 'I don't know,' she admitted. 'I only know that he is a being that demands respect, and that no one should command him in anything. Of a truth he is royalty, a prince, a son of a king, but there's more to it than that. There's more information that he hasn't revealed. It is that that may make him dangerous. Depending on how we play this, he may be our best friend, or our worst enemy. And this much I know, we _**do not**_ want him as our enemy."

It made Eragon shiver and he nodded. There was one more thing that he wanted to know of his dragon, though. "You don't think he's the rightful king of Alagaesia, do you?" Now that just seemed too far fetched.

To his surprise, Saphira paused. She was even more careful than before. 'I do believe he was telling the truth,' she softly replied. Eragon's eyes widened, and something inside him was shaken further. 'He had no reason to lie. And I could feel the truth vibrate in my very being, as if it was ingrained in me. I knew it was true just as much as I know I'm a dragon."

Breathing in and out slowly, Eragon looked up to his dragon again. 'Be very careful, Eragon, and obey his words. Whatever he is, he's not a being you want to mess with. If he doesn't want you to reveal who he is, then do not."

Eragon nodded quickly. He scurried away. As he left, he heard Saphira call out, 'Be careful, Eragon. I feel like things are changing quickly.'

(Percy Point of View)

Percy was sitting in the pub, taking off his riding gloves (a gift from his cousin and future mother in law Athena), when a strange man with a staff sat in front of him. Percy raised an eyebrow. "May I help you?"

"Interesting steed you have," the man began. He motioned the waiter over. "What's the name of your horse?"

Percy knew he was fishing for information. The man wasn't what he seemed. He'd seen it so many times back home. But upon hearing Blackjack called a horse, he frowned. "Pegasus," he corrected. Poseidon had declared Blackjack his for all eternity.

"Pegasus," the man tried the foreign word out on his tongue. But there was something else on his mind. He gazed at Percy carefully. "You're a long way from home."

Shrugging, Percy replied, leaning forward. "And you're here for a reason. Perhaps, instead of fishing for information, you could just be up front with me. Now what do you want?"

The man grimaced. "Clever," he grumbled. A waiter walked over and put some food in front of him. "Here you go, Brom." She nodded at Percy and set food in front of him as well.

Percy dug in, the man watching him. Percy glanced back at him. "What makes you think I'm fishing for information?"

Yet another tactic. Percy raised an eyebrow. "Do you want an answer or not?" he demanded.

The man sighed. "Fine. Who are you and what are you doing in Carvahall?"

Thinking quickly as his mind went faster than a mortal's, deciding what he wanted to say, and what he wanted to keep secret, he responded, "I'm Percy. As you probably know, I'm from another land. As for what I'm doing here, I'm just passing through. I hope to be on my way soon."

"And where are you headed?" Brom asked, listening closely, his arms folded, his plate suddenly pushed aside.

Percy pushed his plate aside when he saw this as well. "Why don't you say it to me directly?"

Frowning, the man rolled his eyes and tried again. "Fine. You're obviously not from Alagaesia. What's you're business here?"

Being careful, yet appearing open, Percy countered, "My father sent me on a mission here. But, what that is, is between him and I."

Brom frowned again. He leaned back, observing Percy as he ate. Suddenly, Percy felt something trying to get into his mind. However, as a child or descendant of the gods, he had a natural shield around his mind. Perhaps it was the mist, or maybe it was just because of his godly nature. According to Poseidon, not even an elf dragon rider would be able to penetrate it. And if Percy did lower his mind, it would kill even an elf and her dragon.

It was brief, however, as Brom's face screwed in agony and he was quickly out of Percy's mind. It took about ten minutes for Brom to recover, breathing heavily, shaking, Percy's eyebrow's raised the whole time. When he was finally partially recovered, his face still in pain, he asked, "What _**are**_ you?!"

Snorting in disdain, Percy shook his head. "You're lucky you just brushed the borders of my mind. It would have killed you had you actually gone in." Not that he could go in. But Brom didn't need to know that.

Seemingly careful after that, Brom was hesitant. "You're not all that you seem," the man muttered.

Percy shrugged. "And if I'm not?" He raised his eyebrows in challenge again. The man was trained, he'd give him that. But he was no match for a legacy or a demigod, still.

Looking away, doing his best to contain his emotions, Brom looked over. "How aware are you of what's going on here in our land?"

It was yet another attempt to fish for information, but Percy was patient. Raising his eyebrows, Percy sighed. "Fine. Fish for information all you want. I'm more than aware, for your information. That's why father sent me."

Seeing his volatile attitude now, Brom was careful. He nodded his head and observed Percy more. "All right, then." Folding his arms, Brom folded his arms back at him. There was a staring contest. Percy didn't like it that this man was snooping into his business.

Percy stared at Brom until Brom gave up. The man sighed. "Fine!" he exclaimed. "You win!"

Percy smirked. "What, you think that I'm willing to play this game?" He took a swig from his mug, eyeing Brom the whole time. "My turn, now. No one else has bothered fishing for information quite like you. You're not like anyone I've seen here. So what's your story?"

Brom frowned as Percy called him spot on. At first he seemed reluctant, but when Percy raised his eyebrow, Brom sighed. "Fine! I'm a storyteller and I haven't collected new stories in a while. I was hoping to record yours."

Percy snorted. "Yeah, right. We both know that's not true. Besides, no one else here has attempted to breach my mind like you have. I dare say that no one **_can_** try something like that here. You're not what **_you_** seem."

Brom narrowed his eyes again. Percy stared back challenging again. There was no way he was going to loose this one. "You asked me for my information. I gave some away. Now it's your turn. Who are you and what do you want with me? And what makes you so different from everyone else?"

"I'll forgo the last one," Brom answered wryly. "You never answered that question yourself."

Shrugging, Percy announced, "Fair enough."

Sighing, deep in thought, Brom went on. "I'm not from Carvahall, actually, but I've been here for a while. As for who I am, I'm an old man that has seen a lot. So when something odd happens, I know about it. But you, you've got me intrigued. There's rumors of a prophecy going around, supposedly coming from the dwarves, that a new king will rise and cease Galbatorix's throne."

"Galbatorix's throne?" Percy echoed dryly. He wasn't too fond of the terminology since it was technically his throne. Percy raised his eyebrows. "And you think I'm the one?" Percy challenged, if only to thrown the man off.

The man frowned. "You come up, stirring trouble, dressed like no one I've seen in Alagaesia. I would know. I've been all over Alagaesia. You dress from a foreign land, and you admit it yourself. The prophecy states that the new king will come from another land."

"And just because I'm from another land, I'm this king?" Percy calmly replied, deciding to play around a little. He wanted to see what he could learn from this mortal.

Brom watched him closely. "I've never heard of the prophecy until a couple of years ago, and it's been going around constantly. That's what concerns me. All of the sudden, the dwarves are quoting some ancient prophecy that I have never heard of? I'm well versed in the history of these lands of all the creatures who inhabit it. I've never heard of the prophecy before then."

Percy was shocked. His father had informed him that the dwarves had an ancient prophecy they called sacred about him ending Galbatorix's reign. It was given to them long before the first humans exchanged gifts and left Alagaesia again, not to come back for some time. It was given to them long before the elves arrived. It was given to them by Apollo himself back when the Olympians ruled Alagaesia.

Keeping his face carefully schooled, Percy asked, "You said this prophecy started coming out two years ago? Why then? What happened?" And he was curious to know.

Shaking his head, Brom sighed. "I don't know what's caused it. All I've been able to verify from rumors is that it did come from the dwarves. As to why now, I don't know. Perhaps people are getting more desperate since the king has been tightening his reigns. It's rumored that he's getting ready to march out against the other nations. That will create a lot of turmoil if he does."

Sighing and looking away briefly, wondering if the waiter was going to come back over as he wanted his plate refilled, he mentioned, "That does seem like an issue."

"So why are you here?" Brom asked directly again, looking into his eyes. "A young boy like you, turning up out of nowhere from another land? That's not coincidence."

Percy narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust the man. For all he knew, the man was going to try to make him a pawn in his game. "Not your business," he was blunt. He drunk more of the juice out of his mug again. "And as I said, I'm on my father's business."

Brom narrowed his eyes, and once more there was a staring contest. But finally, Brom gave up. "Very well," he stood up. "I see this is how it's going to be. Have a wonderful evening, sir."

Percy nodded curtly and continued with his meal, watching Brom as he got up and paid the waiter for his food. Percy carefully watched as the man started walking out of his pub with his staff, turning back to gaze curiously and suspiciously at Percy before finally going out the door.

Groaning inwardly, Percy knew that he was going to have to watch the man. Brom wasn't what he seemed. He didn't feel comfortable contacting his dragon Anaklusmos until he was sure that Brom wasn't anywhere near. He may not have been able to read his mind, but there was no guarantee that he couldn't read his dragon's mind. So he contacted his faithful steed Blackjack instead.

'Sire?' the pegasus answered. He'd gotten in the dreadful habbit of calling him 'sire' or 'your imperial highness' since Percy's appointment to be king. Even worse, the pegasus was threatening to call him 'your majesty' once he was finally king. And then he'd threatened to call him 'your imperial majesty' once he finally became emperor.

Huffing in frustration, Percy did his best to ignore it. 'Send a message to Anaklusmos,' he requested.

'And what is the message?'

'Tell him that we need to keep out an eye for a man with a staff.'

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon caught Percy as he was by the stalls of the inn. The young man's back was turned to him, but he must have heard him approach for he announced, "Yes? What do you want, Eragon?"

Eragon frowned. He had hunter's feet, and he was very silent. So how could this man hear him? He wasn't ordinary, that much was for sure. But there was something even more important he wanted to know. "How did you know my name?"

Percy turned to him. His golden cloak, quite literal with the gold, was studded with aqua green gemstones that he had no name for. "I asked," Percy confessed. "The people in the inn were kind enough to tell me a little about you. I must say, since it's a small place I'm not surprised that word gets around quickly. Half the community is gossiping about you, you know." The young man then smiled sympathetically as if he knew what gossip was like. Then again he was a prince, so he supposed it was possible. But the next question took him off guard. "How's your uncle?"

"Fine," Eragon answered stiffly as that was a sore subject for him. He still didn't know what to think about the event. The creatures had attacked him personally and called him a dragon rider. Then, this mysterious man showed up. The truth was, and he'd talked to uncle Garrow about it, but he wanted to leave badly. He wanted answers as to what was going on. But he also wanted to know what this mysterious stranger had to do with them.

It wasn't until Percy moved slightly out of the way that he saw that there were supplies freshly purchased from Carvahall, equipped to fit in a saddle. "You're leaving?" he inquired curiously.

Percy shrugged. "And if I am? Besides, it should be obvious that I'm a traveler."

Eragon was stunned. But, he also saw an opportunity. He didn't know why, but he felt drawn to this stranger, almost like he owed this stranger loyalty. He wanted to go with him. "Where are you headed?" was his next question.

The stranger frowned. He turned back to Eragon, suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"

And what was he supposed to say? So, Eragon finally decided on, "I have questions that I want answered to. I want to know why those creatures attacked me and what they want with me. I want to go with you."

Percy snorted looking him over. "I doubt you can even protect yourself. I'm _**not**_ taking on a helpless child."

"And you're not a child?" Eragon was miffed.

"I'm older than you," was the response. "And, I've led in battle before."

This fact shocked Eragon and provoked in him an even greater response to follow the young prince. He didn't know why, but he knew that it was his duty to go with this stranger. "Take me with you!" he pled.

Percy shook his head. "No."

Eragon didn't want to be left behind. He'd go on his own if he had to, it was true, but he was sure that he would find better answers if he went with this stranger. And there was something about him...

After all, if he was to be the downfall of Galbatorix, wasn't it worth it? And what about the fact that he was the rightful king and Galbatorix was not? It was this man that had the right to sit on the throne. And so, hearing stories of others from Brom who had given their loyalty, Eragon did what he thought he needed to do to secure his place traveling with this man. Sending a message to Saphira and receiving her approval, he knelt down before the man. This _**was**_ his **_king_** , after all. "Then, as your loyal vassal, I pledge my allegiance."

Looking up, he saw the stranger in shock. Percy quickly shook his head and knelt down, pulling him up. "Enough of that," he commanded, having an air of authority. "Your Alageasian rituals mean nothing to me!"

"I've pledged my allegiance, though!" Eragon protested. "I cannot take it back! I am bound to you in service!"

Percy shook his head and snorted. "It means nothing to me. Even a vassal could go back on their word. The only promise that is of worth is one that is sworn on the river Styx. Such a promise holds divine power, by the gods. To break such a divine promise entails instant death by and to be sentenced to the fiery fields of Hades. Such a promise is eternally binding by the gods."

Eragon didn't entirely understand what it meant, but he knew it was an even more serious promise than what he had made. It had to be something supernatural, though. Seeing no way to convince the stranger, he quickly swore, "Then on the river Styx, as you are my king, I promise to always be your vassal and to always obey every word you give."

Percy's eyes widened. "Are you nuts?!" he exclaimed. "You just swore your life away! Didn't you hear the part where I said the promise would literally kill you if you break it?"

"I'd already sworn my life away," Eragon pointed out. Belatedly, he realized Garrow might not approve of him becoming a vassal, let alone swearing a death promise of sorts. "This was the only way you'd believe me."

Percy huffed and began pacing, as if it was a problem and a complication. After a few minutes he turned back, snappy. "Fine!" he exclaimed. "You can come! But only in secret. I don't want anyone to know that you're here for now. I'll buy you a horse in the next town!"

Smiling, Eragon walked over, he was about to touch the stallion, until Percy snatched his hand away, in a bad mood. "Don't!" he firmly corrected. "They're divine and may only be touched by those whom the gods dictate! Anyone else touching them would be harmed!"

Taking his hand back, Eragon realized that it must be some sort of divine creature. The only reason he could think of Percy having one was because he was royalty. Whatever it was, it must have been that the royal family had duty to the gods where he came from.

It was odd, Percy's customs and style, but he knew that he could get used to it. "Why don't you want me visible?" he questioned. "Having a vassal is a sign of authority here. I don't know what it's like, where you're coming from, but here it's advantageous."

Percy shook his head and opened the stall. Eragon stepped back as Percy mounted his steed. "Never mind that. I just don't exactly-well-never mind." With that the stallion moved out, no word given from Percy it seemed.

Percy loomed over Eragon, and it was then he gave his final directions. "I want to move out of this town right now, but I also need some time to myself. Since you're insistent on being my vassal, and I suppose you are since you swore on the river Styx, I order you to stay here until early tomorrow morning. Then you can join me."

"But how will I find you?" Eragon asked. But a part of him was also excited to leave. He'd never been outside the region before, and he'd only hunted in the mountains.

Percy sighed, exasperated. "You don't need to find me. I'll find you."

And with that, the stallion took off. Eragon ran out of the stables, but by the time he was out, the stallion was already in the air. It was interesting watching such a beautiful creature fly, and it was then that he had no doubt that the creature had divine origins.

For a moment he was hesitant. Then he took off into the woods, eager to meet his dragon.

Saphira flew down. When she'd folded her wings, she demanded, 'Well?'

Eragon shook with excitement. "He'll take me!"

Snorting in disdain, Saphira rested her head down.

'It was only because you'd promised yourself as his vassal.'

(Percy Point of View)

Percy overlooked the mountains and down into Carvahall. His divine demigod eyes were naturally sharper than any mere mortals, and he could see the details clearly. Sighing, he didn't know what to think. This was someday to be apart of his kingdom, his empire. And his empire would include well beyond the Alageasian's known borders, past a river that divided the elvish lands from the dwarves, where they traded.

Technically it included the elvish and the dwarvish kingdoms, but he wasn't sure how they'd respond. When it came to the dwarves, though, he was fairly sure those deities had negotiated for more time. He still had yet to meet with them.

Blackjack trotted up to him. 'Hey, boss!' the stallion swished his tail. 'That Eragon character sure is annoying, isn't he?'

Percy shook his head. "His heart is in the right place, but he's **_so_** naive," he decided to respond aloud, knowing Blackjack would understand.

The stallion snorted. 'He **_is_** your subject. Plus, he's your vassal now."

"And not by choice!" Percy gritted out. "Why! Why did he have to do that to me?!"

'You still don't want to be king, do you?' Blackjack was sympathetic in his answer. 'Not even despite the fact that you're future Emperor Consort to Empress Annabeth? You're of royal blood, Percy. You _**are**_ a rightful prince. What's more is your divine. To be divine is to be royal, but to be royal is not necessarily to be divine. You can't deny who you are anymore.'

"I know!" Percy groaned. "But now, dealing with a vassal?! This just got more complicated." He put his hand to his head in exhaustion and frustration. That Eragon was a dragon rider he knew. A demigod and a legacy would always know. Glancing at his hand where he'd hidden the dragon rider tatoo with the mist and a little make up in case there was anyone clear sighted, he sighed. "Anaklusmos," he whispered. "The cursed sword."

'Wonder why he chose that name?' Blackjack mused, thinking on the dragon slightly older than Saphira. 'Did you tell him what it meant?'

"Riptide. And yes, he knows." Percy put his hand down and went back to staring at the village. The empire and the other cultures were only a small part of the lands that he would rule as king and someday Emperor. Yes, Annabeth's land was slightly bigger, but for him, this was still too big. "How am I going to do this?" he whispered to himself. There were the dwarves, and then there were those dreaded elves that didn't believe in deities whatsoever. Yes, _**that**_ would go well with Zeus. And Zeus had ordered him to make sure everyone, including the elves, honored the gods.

'You'll find a way,' Blackjack reassured him.

Percy sighed.

'I'll have to find a way, for father's sake.'


	3. Chapter 3: Another Annoying Traveler

**I don't own Percy Jackson or the Inheritance Cycle.**

Chapter Three: Another Annoying Traveler

(Percy Point of View)

Percy tapped his foot impatiently. He'd used mist traveling to leave a note on Eragon's pillow while the boy was asleep. He'd given his new vassal orders to meet him by in the woods outside of the Carvahall path before sunrise, and yet the boy still wasn't here.

"Disobedient vassal," he griped. He'd regretted not keeping his mouth shut. But then again, as Annabeth always called him, he was a seaweed brain.

It wasn't long after that that heard the scuffling of more feet than he liked. Looking in the distance and seeing farther than any mortal, he frowned, irritated as he saw Brom. Brom was trailing behind Eragon.

Eragon came up to him. Percy raised his eyebrows. "I couldn't shake him," Eragon explained, huffing for air. "And you didn't say that I couldn't bring anyone."

"Didn't I?" Percy asked, a miffed tone in his voice. So this was how it was going to be? This was how his vassal was going to treat him? "I was pretty sure it was implied."

Brom snorted, narrowing his eyes at Percy. "I didn't ask," Brom stated. "Where the boy goes, I go."

"Oh?" Percy asked, looking between the two of them. So Brom, who everyone seemed to think as aloof was attached to this boy? There was no real reason for him to be, if Eragon were a mere stranger to him. So, seeing this as an opportunity to get information, he asked, "And what's your relation to him?"

Brom strangely deadpanned. "He's a friend."

"Oh?" Percy asked, disbelievingly. "And why would you be friends with someone his age?"

A strange silence passed over the both of them, and Eragon looked uncomfortable. Percy narrowed his eyes, but he could tell that Brom was being careful. Whatever secret he was hiding, Brom didn't want it coming out, and he could tell that Brom didn't want it coming out in front of Eragon.

Finally, after a minute, Brom huffed. "Fine! So I have concern for him! But in all honesty, can you deny me? Eragon is young and I don't want anything happening to him."

"I won't let anything happen to him," Percy firmly responded, making it clear that unless Brom had a good reason, he wasn't going to let him come with them.

Brom huffed and looked at Percy. They both knew what this was about, and neither trusted the other. "Fine!" Brom snapped. "I promised his father that I wouldn't let anything happen to him!"

Eragon gasped in surprise and Percy narrowed his eyes. He doubted that was the case, and Brom narrowed his eyes back. Nonetheless, Percy had obtained a valuable clue, and he decided to let it go.

Eragon turned to Brom. "You knew my father?"

Brom looked uncomfortable. "And your mother," he admitted.

Percy sighed. "Fine," he accepted. Still grouchy. "You can come with. But this is still _**my**_ group and **_my_** rules still apply!"

"Fine!" Brom gruffly agreed. He turned away and marched towards the trees to the right to rest.

At that moment, Blackjack came trotting up. 'Hey, boss!' he greeted. He huffed at Brom when he saw him. 'Don't worry about that old man. He's a nuisance, but it'll work out.'

'Yeah,' Percy grouchily responded back, mounting Blackjack.

With a silent signal from Percy, the troop moved out. Eragon walked next to him on his right, and Brom, glancing cautiously at Percy, walked on his left. But Percy couldn't help but notice the number of times that Brom would secretly glance at Eragon in concern.

It didn't take them long to reach the next city. With Blackjack trotting across a bridge, Percy noticed a man. He tried to stop him. "Stop! There's a toll to cross this bridge!"

Percy snorted, motioning to Eragon to stop. "Funny," Percy snidely cut in. "The last time I was in this city, two weeks ago, there was none."

"Well there is now," the man snarled.

Reigning his Pegasus in, Blackjack starting to get aggressive with his ears pointed back, head arched, Percy ground out, "Then you don't mind if I take it up with the city council, do you? Imagine what the would say when they hear about how you're scaring potential customers away!"

The man paled. Percy smirked. "That's what I thought." With that, Blackjack trotted on, but not before glaring at the man. Eragon and Brom walked behind him.

It wasn't long afterwards that Brom piped up. "Intimidating. Impressive."

Huffing in impatience, Percy replied, "I've had enough frustrations for today. I wasn't about to tolerate one more. And I meant what I said. The first place we're stopping is the city council."

Something inside Brom looked uncomfortable with this, Percy, noticed. Sighing, Percy relented. "Fine. Just get a couple of horses. I'll give you money. I'll come find you _**after**_ I talk to the city council."

"I don't need your money," Brom deadpanned, grabbing Eragon's wrist. "We'll be fine."

Before Brom could move forward, Percy reigned in Blackjack in front of him. Since Eragon was his vassal, there was no way that Brom was paying for Eragon. It wouldn't look well on him. "No," Percy commanded. "Get yourself your own horse if you want, but Eragon is under _**my**_ employment. **_I_** provide for him." With that, he slapped some gold nuggets into Eragon's hands, more than enough to cover. He simply didn't have any Alagaesian currency yet.

While it wasn't quite true that Eragon was employed to him, at the same time, it was true in a sense. And there was no need for Brom to know the details, especially until Percy figured out exactly how he and Eragon were connected. That Brom was unusually protective of Eragon, he knew. He also knew that without knowing why, he might be missing some vital information that could affect the whole mission. And Percy didn't like that.

Brom nodded and conceded. Though, he seemed surprised at the statement that Eragon was working for Percy. "Fair enough," he coolly replied. Meanwhile, Eragon was staring in awe at the gold he was given. Apparently, he must never have seen so much before.

Nodding at the two travelers, Percy trotted off.

Now to get an annoying scammer into trouble.

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon was still looking at the gold in awe. While he hadn't missed the exchange between Percy and Brom, at the same time it wasn't the center of his attention. He'd never seen so much gold before!

Brom grumpily grabbed his wrist. "Come one."

He was pulled off to the horse stables.

It wasn't long before Brom was negotiating with the owner, and Eragon was sitting on top of Cadoc. As he proudly rode him, he met Eragon near the edge of the city. Brom wasn't far behind him, riding Snowfire.

Percy nodded in approval. "Nice horse," he complimented Eragon. "You made an excellent choice."

Eragon practically beamed at the compliment. He made a move to give back the rest of the gold that was more than his purchase, but Percy frowned and shook his head. "Keep it," he commanded, gently stroking Blackjack. "It's your payment."

"But v-" Eragon began to say only for Percy to sharply cut him off."

"I would think it would be ingratitude to do so otherwise." With that, he reigned in Blackjack and trotted off.

Brom was narrowing his eyes at Percy. Evidently, he knew that Percy had cut off Eragon for a reason. Widening his eyes, Eragon realized that Percy had just saved his life as he'd almost been disobedient, giving away his position as a vassal.

Trotting forward, Brom motioned them on. "Come. Let's catch up to him."

Eragon nodded and they trotted off.

(That night)

When Percy dismounted for the night, he immediately began grooming Blackjack. Eragon continued to stare at the majestic steed in awe. Saphira wasn't there, as Percy hadn't asked for him to reveal his status as a dragon rider yet, and Eragon wondered whether or not he was under orders to or not.

Walking up to Percy, he waited obediently to be addressed. Brom was watching him, that much he was sure of. "Yes?" Percy finally asked, combing his steed's tail.

"Can we, can we talk?" Eragon asked. "Alone?" he questioned.

Percy nodded. He finished combing the stallion before heading deeper into the woods with him.

Turning around, Percy had a friendlier expression. For a moment, Eragon could see he might make a great teacher. He had a natural concern over others. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?" Percy asked in the most open manner he had ever seen him.

Nodding, Eragon continued. "What do I tell Brom about Saphira?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. "That's what this is about?" Eragon nodded. Percy shrugged. "I haven't given an order either way, and I'm not going to. That's for you to decide. But in all honesty, considering how it was hard for you to keep that little secret earlier, I think you might have trouble keeping this from Brom. He's highly observant and unusual, in the usual sense. If he hasn't suspected now, I suppose he will soon. You might think on that."

Eragon nodded. Then there was that. He remembered how Brom had purposefully removed his glove from him that one day.

"And what about my being a vassal?" was Eragon's next question.

Immediately, displeasure was on Percy's face. "I still haven't forgotten how you did that," Percy seethed. But then his face was friendly again. "I'm not sure Brom would approve of that. We'll keep it quiet for now, but if he figures out, he figures out. He's awfully smart. But I want you to do your best to keep it quiet and not intentionally leak it to him. Though, considering what happened earlier, to save your life, if you do accidentally, unintentionally mention it, it's fair game."

Eragon nodded. Silence then came between the two of them.

Percy led the way back and Eragon followed. Brom was staring at them suspiciously. Percy immediately ignored him. He wasn't in the mood.

As the teenager rolled out his sleeping material, it was only then that Eragon realized how much proficiency and experience he had. 'Saphira,' he asked. 'Where do you think the king learned to do all this?'

'King Percy?' Saphira frowned, considering the question. 'Well, he _**is**_ from a royal background.'

Percy caught him staring. Raising his eyebrows at Eragon, he asked, "What?"

Eragon shook his head. "Nothing."

The young men went to sleep.

(Percy Point of View)

When the day came, Blackjack woke Percy up with a slight nudge of his head. 'It's time to rise and shine, Your Royal Highness.'

Percy groaned. 'Stop calling me that!'

'Sure thing, Your Majesty!'

'Not that either!'

Sighing, he opened his eyes, hearing his Pegasus chuckle. The black stallion trotted off. A short time later, he spread his wings and was up into the air.

Getting up, he saw that Brom and Eragon were asleep. The demigod walked to the nearest river with a sigh, wishing to connect to his native element. When he was there, he went underwater for a swim.

It was amazing all the creatures there that his father had created. 'Greetings, Lord!' they would say to him. He snorted in amusement. Apparently, "Lord" was a way to address a prince in the Greek/Roman culture, and he hadn't even realized it. Only humans and human like creatures were required to call him "Prince". After all, other creations and demigods could call them "Lord," or "Lady". That was why the gods were addressed as Lady Athena, Lord Hermes. But the same thing applied to Kings. They were addressed as "Lord" or "Lady" by demigods, but by everyone else as "King" or "Queen".

Percy stopped one of them. 'You know those black creatures with cloaks on them? Where can I find their lair?'

They seemed trepidatious. But, finally, one of them responded, 'Lord, when some humans crossed the river, we heard rumors of an establishment at Helgrind. Only the very pious seem to mention them and that place.'

Sighing, Percy thanked them and swam up to the surface. It was a start.

Coming back to the camp, completely dry, he saw that Eragon and Brom were awake. Both had food out and were eating. Getting some traditional Roman food out of the saddle on the ground, Percy began eating, but not before praying and pouring some food into the local fire. Eragon and Brom looked at him curiously.

As he sat down to eat, he began to address his travelers. "We need to get to Helgrind."

This caused some shock in his followers, especially Brom. "Whatever for?"

He considered a moment before responding. He knew it was random, but there was something about the Ra'zac that he wanted to check out. He knew they could be a potential nuisance to his reign. Plus, he wanted to know why they were attacking Eragon.

Finally responding, he decided with this answer: "I received some news from a source claiming the Ra'zac has associations at Helgrind. I'm deeply concerned because they've attacked a member of my group." His eyes wandered briefly to Eragon, and he was careful not to say vassal. "I want to know why my employee is being targeted, twice now."

"Twice?" Brom gasped, looking at Eragon who was unusually silent. There was suspicion in his eyes towards Eragon.

"Twice," Percy confirmed, glad that the attention was away from him.

Silence reigned. No one seemed to want to talk and give away their secrets. Finally, Brom took up the subject. "Ideally, I'd like to go to Teirm first."

"Teirm?" Percy questioned softly. He knew it was not a demand but a request. Brom seemed to have finally gotten the hint that he was not leader here. "Why?"

More silence reigned. Finally, Brom answered, "I have a **_friend_** , and he needs to know I'm alive."

Percy contemplated this, and at that moment Blackjack returned. Fortunately, his steed seemed to pick up on the fact that he needed to be silent, and Percy contemplated the move. Yes, he wanted to deal with and question the Ra'zac thoroughly. But, appeasing Brom might be smarter. Right now, the man didn't seem to like him very much. "How far away is it?" he demanded to know, not looking up.

"In the opposite direction, actually," Brom admitted, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

Percy contemplated more. Brom had had a lot of time to travel and admit to his "friend" that he was still alive. But he hadn't. For some reason, this was some sort of move on the chess board. And for all he knew, it had something to do with him and his arrival into Alagaesia.

So, Percy decided to question more. The last thing he needed was a threat to the gods going unchecked. "This "friend"," he frowned. "Why must he all of a sudden be informed now?"

It was a demand for Brom to be more open. The man knew that he was caught. Evidently, Brom was wanting to take the whole group there because he seemed to have an attachment to Eragon. Percy knew that there was more going on than either he or Eragon was seeing. While Eragon didn't see it, he did. But, he was wanting to test how far that attachment went. It might give a clue to the mystery. So, he pushed, "You already know where we're going. We could separate, and you could meet us just outside Helgrind in about a month?"

As expected, confirming there was something else going on, Brom looked appalled. Percy knew he had a win. He'd just confirmed that Brom had joined the group to keep close to Eragon. Even a mere storyteller traveling to record someone's life wouldn't have minded this change. He would have just gotten the details from the subjects of his story shortly after rejoining them. The storytelling job was merely a ploy.

As Brom was silent, Percy raised an eyebrow. "No? Don't want to be separated from Eragon, do you?" Brom glared and clenched his fists. Nodding, Percy sighed. He'd gotten what he wanted anyways. Sighing, he stood up. "I suppose we can all go to Teirm."

"But!" Eragon protested.

Percy gave a sharp glare at Eragon. He'd explain his move later. "The group will not be separated."

Brom was glaring at him suspiciously. Evidently, the man knew that this was also a ploy by Percy to see what Brom was up to. Oh, well. They had enough time to figure each other out.

Standing up, Percy dusted himself off. "Let's get packing," he demanded, and summoning Blackjack, he saddled his friend up.

(Percy Point of View)

As they traveled, Percy led the way, staying on the ground. Blackjack's tail was swaying. Realizing that he was going to have to confront Brom, he signaled Eragon to go ahead. Eragon obeyed, but not without a questioning glance at his prince.

Brom raised his eyebrows at Percy for sending him off. Signaling Blackjack to turn around with his mind, he demanded, "You're going to need to be honest with me. What **_are_** your intentions with Eragon?"

"I've already told you," Brom replied without expression.

Huffing in exasperation, Percy went on. "This is now a matter of safety. I need to know that I can trust you. I know that you're not telling the truth, at least the complete truth. Tell me, what is the relation between you and Eragon?"

"He's a friend," Brom replied.

"You're **_family_** ," Percy accused. "I **_know_**. I've **_seen_** that expression before. I **_know_** you're related to him in some way, and that he doesn't know it. But how, I cannot tell. I only know that you're family."

As a shocked expression enveloped Brom's face, he knew he was spot on. It was one part of the clue solved.

All of a sudden, Brom seemed to age. He stared out into the distance. "Yes," he finally admitted. "He's a relative."

Silence reigned between them. Percy considered the implications of this. Brom was related to his vassal. That meant he couldn't easily get rid of Brom. But, even more, Eragon had the right to know. It could cause problems in the future if he knew something and Eragon found out in the worst of circumstances.

"You've never told him?" Percy accused. "Why?"

A grave expression was on Brom's face, and he met Percy's eyes. "I was afraid for his safety," he finally admitted.

Percy took this into account. "Why would relations to you be dangerous? Are you some sort of criminal?"

"No," Brom replied. "But I have links to what is known as the Varden."

"I am aware of them," Percy cut in. And he was cautious of them as it was. Would they resist his plans? "But others have been linked to the Varden and their family knows it. No, this is a unique case of sorts."

Sighing, Brom replied, "I'm an important figure. That's all you need to know. If they knew about Eragon, then they might try to use him against me."

"And what about Roran? What about Garrow? They wouldn't use **_them_** against you?" Brom couldn't answer that. It was only then that everything clicked and fell into place. "He's your _**son**_ , isn't he?"

Brom was white as death. The man hadn't wanted a complete stranger to know. Sighing, Percy put his right hand to his temples. This complicated things considerably. "So a high official that is an enemy of Galbatorix has a secret son that could easily become a pawn in things. You realize how dangerous this is?"

"Which is why he mustn't know!" Brom pleaded with him. "You know how Eragon is! This won't go down well if others know. They'll be wanting favors from him to get to me!"

"They'll already be wanting favors from him," Percy muttered under his breath, well aware that Eragon was a dragon rider. Finally, looking up, he replied, "For his sake, he has to know. You need to tell him the truth."

Shaking his head, Brom replied, "That's the worst of ideas."

Glaring, Percy calmly replied, "And if he were to find out from the wrong source, that would be even worse. Things are already bad as it is. But, if at the very least he knows, then this knowledge can't be used against him."

He knew that Brom knew he was going to loose the fight. Now that Percy knew, the man knew that he couldn't control him. Percy could reveal it at will. So, Brom looked up. "If we're at the point in revealing secrets, then I want some answers as well."

Sighing, Percy knew it had to go both ways. "Tell you what," he cut a deal. "You tell Eragon, and I'll tell you, conditioned on you answering just as many questions as you ask me."

"Deal," Brom nodded to him and rode off.

Tapping Blackjack gently with his feet, Percy added, "If you don't tell him by the end of this week, I'll tell him, then."

Brom ignored him.

(Eragon Point of View)

He was mad. That was something he was going to admit. Brom was his father?! Why hadn't the man ever said anything!

The moment he walked off, Brom made a move to go after him. But Percy held him back. "Leave him be," he demanded. "He needs time to cool off."

He had to admit, he was mad at his Lord and Prince. Somehow, Percy had known, and he hadn't told him. On the other hand, the young man must have pushed Brom to tell him. At least there was that.

Saphira flew down into the forest where he was at. 'You heard?' he asked Saphira.

Saphira shook her head. 'I only hear what you send me.'

Setting down, she used her wing to bring Eragon closer. He settled down beneath her wings, leaning into him. 'Brom's my father,' he thought to her.

For a moment, she seemed shocked. Then, she settled down. 'It makes sense,' she admitted.

Looking up, he sent a questioning feeling at her. 'Why?' he asked.

She snorted. 'He went through all that trouble to follow you, didn't he?'

He looked away. 'I suppose.' As he thought on things, he began to wonder. 'Do you think I should telling him about being a dragon rider?'

'He _**is**_ your father,' Saphira pointed out. 'Not to mention, don't you think he suspects?'

'Possibly,' Eragon thought, remembering the time when Brom had purposefully taken his glove off. Sighing, he leaned against Saphira. 'I don't want to think about it right now. I just want to sleep.'

'That's fair,' Saphira conceded.

(Percy Point of View)

It wasn't until the next night that Eragon and Brom began to patch things up. He'd shown up at the camp that morning silent. But, as they settled down, Percy began watching them.

Eragon seemed nervous. But Brom seemed open. They were all sitting at the fire, and it was an awkward feeling for all of them. Finally, Eragon cleared his throat. "Brom," he began, and it seemed as if he was unsure how he should address his father. "What should I call you?" he suddenly blurted out.

Percy shrugged, and before anyone could answer, he admitted, "I call my father by the first name all the time."

Eragon looked at him in shock. Percy shrugged again.

Brom raised an eyebrow at the out of place comment, but didn't comment upon it. He was busy having a warm drink from a mug-like canteen, but he set it down, sighing. "I haven't really been a father to you, when I should have," he admitted, looking at Eragon. "I've wanted to, but it's simply been to dangerous to reveal this to you. If it weren't for him," he glared at Percy. "I wouldn't be putting you through this danger. I'm not asking you to call me father. I haven't earned that right. And in truth, I don't think it safe to. Brom will be fine."

"But you _**are**_ my friend," Eragon pointed out. "And you've always been there for me. Now I know why."

Nodding, Brom added, "Then there's that."

Silence reigned again. Eragon seemed to be working up the courage. Finally, he took his gloves off, showing the mark on his palm to his father. "I-I have a dragon," he admitted.

Brom took his palm in his hand, looking at it carefully. Then, taking his hand, he thoroughly scrubbed it, revealing the same marking.

Percy gasped so did Eragon. " _ **Another**_ dragon rider?" he demanded.

Sadly, Brom shook his head. "No, but yes, once upon a time."

Percy seemed to get the hint. Brom's dragon was dead. Eragon was still in shock, looking at Brom's palm. "My father was a dragon rider?" he murmured to himself in amazment.

Groaning, seeing the way this was going, Percy moaned. "Oh, to heck with this!" And, wiping his palm, and letting his hand show, he revealed his mark.

Brom looked at his mark in astonishment. "When?" he gasped, in awe. Eragon seemed awe struck.

Percy didn't answer. Instead, he called out to his dragon.

A roar came. Percy could tell that Saphira was communicating in excitement with Eragon. Suddenly, a majestic, ocean green and blue dragon, a female, swept down from the sky. She was much bigger than Saphira, being much older by a year, and was able to breathe fire.

'Greetings,' she greeted everyone with her mind, having a Grecian accent.

Eragon stood up in awe. There were some differences between this dragon and his. She seemed special, but of course she would be, being created by the sea itself. There was something divine about her, unlike Saphira and the other dragons.

Brom stood up suddenly, as well. " _ **Two**_ female dragons," he said in awe and worry. He turned to Percy. "How is this possible?"

Percy knew what the man was thinking. He'd read the history. Instead, he chose to give a different reply.

"I am the rightful king of Alagaesia."

 **And there you have it!**

 **I would like to thank everyone for reviewing. Right now, this is my most popular story.**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews!**

 **Out of curiosity, is this chapter length too much, just right, or too little? On many stories I can easily write 10,000 word chapters or more. On very few do I write in the 1-2,000 range. But I am curious.**

 **Is this the right chapter length for you?**

 **Let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4: A Royal Introduction

**I don't own Percy Jackson or Inheritance Cycle.**

 _ ** **Seriously, if you've not seen Xuan Yuan Sword: Han Cloud, go see it! I really liked Xuan Yuan Sword 3: Rift of the sky, and that was my favorite for a while, but this new drama beat it!****_

 **I'm sorry it took me so long to update. A lot has been going on lately, and I've been busy. Plus, the holidays. Plus, I have to rotate work on stories. Plus, this is a longer chapter.**

Chapter Four: A Royal Introduction

(Percy Point of View)

Brom was still staring at him in shock. Saphira flew down in excitement. 'Another dragon!' they heard her voice say.

Brom looked back and forth between Percy and his dragon. There was something different about that dragon, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Instead, the man turned back to Percy. "Rightful king?" he asked.

Percy nodded, and at that point, Blackjack returned from the skies. Landing, he trotted over to Percy. "Apollo, a god where I'm from, issued a prophecy before he left Alagaesia. The Olympians were the original gods to hold these lands. But, they loaned it. So, Apollo prophesied that when the time came for them to have their lands back, they would appoint a ruler, and that person would rule Alagaesia. I am that rightful king."

Brom seemed shocked. He looked to Eragon, seemingly aware that the boy had known some of this.

Eragon was in thought. Saphira seemed to be taking the words in. But, Brom turned back to Percy. "I don't understand how you can be king, though."

Exasperated, Percy explained, "Only someone whom the gods recognize has the right to be king. It doesn't matter if humans or others appoint someone or not. If that person doesn't have the recognition of the gods, then they're not truly a king. That is why the dwarvish king is truly a king, being recognized by his gods, but Galbatorix and Islandazi is not."

Frowning, somewhat cautious, Brom explained, "I'm not sure that Islandazi would see things your way."

Having a lost expression, Eragon asked, "Whose Islandazi?" Both of the older males ignored him.

"It doesn't matter," Percy replied. "Whether or not you see me as a king, I _**am**_ of royal lineage, and you **_will_** respect me."

Saphira seemed to be saying something to Brom, and Brom turned his head slightly to her. "Saphira says you have a claim to the Alagaesian throne. Apparently, dragons must instinctively recognize this."

Percy shrugged. "It doesn't matter. As I said, the main matter is that the rightful gods are returning. They are expecting me to make sure that worship is converted back to them."

"And if not?" Brom cautiously probed.

Taking a deep breath, Percy considered. "Then I'm in deep trouble. As a servant and representative of the gods, they tasked me with this. I have sworn my life to them. If I can't complete it, I'll die."

"They'll kill you?" Brom asked in concern.

Percy shook his head, intentionally looking at Eragon. "No. I swore of my own accord to the do this task on the river Styx."

Eragon widened his eyes, realizing the implications of this. "Why?" he asked, well aware of the warnings he was given.

Percy looked at him directly. "Because I believe in it," he admitted. "And because my father asked me to."

"You're father, the king?" Eragon cautiously approached the subject.

Percy nodded. There was no need to tell them that his father was also an Olympian.

Brom was watching the conversation. "So, a royal man is in foreign land to do the bidding of the gods of his religion." Percy raised an eyebrow, and Brom continued. "No offense, but I'm not sure that I can agree with your kingly father to convert everyone to his religion just because his gods said so. Nor do I believe that your supposed gods said they have a claim on this land. That, and I don't believe in gods." Brom folded his arms.

Glaring slightly, Percy replied somewhat sharply, "I'm not sure that royal uncle would appreciate hearing that." Thunder rumbled slightly, and Brom looked up in wariness, but unconcerned.

"But the prophecy said someone would come!" Eragon explained. "And Percy is a royal prince fitting that prophecy!"

Brom huffed. "I never heard of this prophecy until around two years ago."

"Nothing was set into motion until two years ago," Percy pointed out. "Two years ago, I was perfectly comfortable where I was at. Now I'm drawn to a foreign land that I don't even want!"

"Then why are you vying for the kingdom?" Brom challenged.

"Because my father wanted me to!" Percy exasperatingly explained.

"Then tell him no!" More thunder was rolling. Suddenly, he heard Triton whisper into his mind, 'By the river, Percy. By the river.'

Not entirely sure what that meant, he sighed. "Follow me," he demanded.

"Why?" Brom cautioned.

Percy glared. "Just do it!"

Everyone filed behind them. When they reached the river's edge, all appeared calm.

"What is this about, Percy!" Brom demanded.

Suddenly, the water whirled, and a 20 foot throne appeared with Triton on it. The mist was removed slightly so that the mortals could see him.

Gasping, Percy knelt. "My lord," he greeted.

Brom was in shock. Saphira, astonished, knelt as well. Apparently, she must have had some words with Eragon, for the boy knelt. Anaklumos was already knelt. Only Brom remained standing.

Triton raised an eyebrow as he towered over them all. "What's the matter, mortal? Never seen a god before?" he demanded.

Brom was shaking. "H-how do I even know you're a god?"

Percy gasped. Brom was really taking chances. And Triton was seething. Suddenly, all the rivers began to shake and swell, and Brom stepped back in fear, but awe replaced his features. "The elements respond to you," he murmured softly. Seeing the amount of power Triton had, he realized that he had no choice but to kneel to this foreign god as well.

Triton seemed pleased and the water returned to normal. "That's better," he replied. Then he turned to Percy. "Arise, Perseus," he replied in Greek, which no one understood. Percy arose. Triton then went to address the rest of them in their language. "Percy _**is**_ appointed by the gods as the rightful king of Alageasia. Moreover, you _**mortals**_ need to be careful in how you treat him. Percy is _**no mere mortal**_."

Shaking to the core, Brom nodded. Eragon did his best to remain calm.

Seeing that he got what he wanted, Triton stood up from his throne. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to go bargain with the Olympians and explain to them why they _**shouldn't**_ blast your butts off. My father might listen, but I can't guarantee that Uncle won't. He tends to take these insults **_personally_**."

Brom seemed to shake more.

With a wave of his hand, the throne disappeared. Triton looked Brom, and he seemed to be picking his words very purposefully. "Be kind to my... **_little brother_**." His face twitched into a smile at that last part, and suddenly he evaporated into water vapor.

There was silence, and for a moment, everyone but Percy was trembling.

Brom finally turned to him. "Little brother?" he asked in awe.

Percy was wary. Finally, "My father is the God-King of the sea. I'm half god, properly demigod."

Brom fainted.

(Eragon Point of View)

By the time Brom was conscious again, the next morning, he was in a bad mood. "Oh, this will go over well with the elves!" he grumbled. "Gods existing! How do I explain that?! And a half god who is the rightful king of Alagaesia? How is this going to go over well with the Varden?"

"Demigod!" Percy called out from a distance impossible for a human to hear. Ultimately, it finally made sense, all of Percy's quirks. He wasn't exactly human, at least not completely human. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd keep that part silent."

"It's bound to be noticeable!" Brom snapped at him. "You're not very normal, are you?" As Percy raised an eyebrow, he sighed, waving his hands. "Yeah, I know, your brother said to be careful of you."

Sighing, Percy let it go.

Everyone finally saddled up, and they were riding again. Curious about how different Eragon's dragon seemed to be, he asked, "Why is it shocking that there's another female dragon?"

Percy raised an eyebrow, slowing down so that all three could ride side by side. Brom seemed to listen very carefully all of a sudden.

The teenager seemed to consider what to say. Finally, he replied, "You know, the Olympians were the ones to create dragons. These dragons, like yours, are merely their descendants. So, what makes you think that the gods can't do it again? Anaklusmos is a direct creation of the God-Queen of the sea herself. That is why she has more of a divine feeling."

Brom's face seemed stunned. But he seemed to consider it. "A direct creation of the gods," he murmured in awe, thinking again.

His face in wonder, Eragon motioned with his head towards the winged horse. "And... him?"

"Ah," Percy began. "He's a long story. Long story short, my father created his ancestor. But, recently, the gods, my father actually, made in a pact with us that pegasus were divine creatures. So, more of his power began to be infused in them. Since that time, they've been off limits to mortals, even to touch."

"Us?" Eragon asked, confused. Percy understood the expression. Eragon thought he was referring to the group.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "The children of the gods," he explained. "And they're descendants. At least the ones that aren't completely gods. We're... in between. There are more demigods than me. And their descendants, legacies, are just as royal and divine, despite being more distantly related."

"Ah," Eragon nodded. It was intriguing to him that there were more half-gods out there.

As they continued on, Percy motioned to Brom. "If you want to go to Teirm, you'll need to take point. I don't know the way."

Brom sighed and did so. "Still have no idea how I'm going to explain to anyone that a half-god is walking around."

Percy huffed in frustration. "Will you drop it?" he asked in bad mood. "I'm a person too, you know."

Eragon felt torn between them. He was Percy's vassal, and rightfully so since Percy was a demigod. But he was also the son of Brom. If the two of them couldn't get along, he'd have no choice but to side with Percy. But that would tear him from his father.

Brom led the way the remainder of the day, and they passed around several towns. Percy was insistent that he would provide the supplies if necessary. "I just want to get this task out of the way," he explained.

By the end of the day, Brom was looking towards the horizon. "We should be in Teirm by the end of tomorrow, if luck is with us," he commented.

Percy shrugged. He was stoking the fire. It still intrigued Eragon that a royal man was willing to get his hands dirty and do heavy labor, even to the point of wanting and expecting to do it. Then again, the culture was probably different where he was from.

As they settled around the fire, Percy looked up. "You do stand out," Brom warned Percy gently.

Percy threw the stick into the fire with frustrated force. "I **_know_** ," he pointed out. Then he grumbled under his breath. "I've stood out my whole life."

Eragon was surprised at the bitterness that seemed to be there. It was only then that he realized that Percy hadn't had it easy growing up, despite being royalty. At first glance, Eragon would have thought that his senior had had nothing but perks and wealth. People must have catered to him, surely. He wasn't expecting to see someone who had been through hardships.

Brom seemed to take everything, even Percy's mood into account. "How are you planning on addressing everything, then?"

Looking up, sighing, Percy responded, "I have no problem with them knowing that I am from a foreign land. It's hard to hide that. As long as they don't know that I'm royal, and that I'm the rightful king, as long as they don't know that I'm not completely human, I'll be fine."

"You act different from humans," Eragon pointed out.

Percy shrugged nonchalantly. "It be explained away that I'm from another culture."

Eragon nodded. That made sense.

"You'll have to keep your powers hidden," he pointed out.

"Powers!?" Brom seemed shocked.

Percy shrugged again. "Shouldn't be a problem - I think."

Brom didn't seem to happy with what he'd heard. But Percy could tell the man was grateful that Percy was even allowing them to journey to Teirm.

The truth was, Percy didn't care one way or another what Brom thought about him. He'd finally figured out that the man would follow them because of Eragon, regardless. But that also meant that the man was going to listen to him more, regardless.

It was when Eragon was finally asleep, (both of them had made sure), that Brom finally approached him and sat next to him. "You owe me the question game."

Percy was instantly cautious. "Ah."

Silence reigned a bit, but Brom started. "Your gods are wanting you to take Alagaesia back. But why did they give it up to begin with?"

Shrugging, Percy frowned. "I don't know," he admitted. "I only know that they'd made an agreement with other gods to have it on loan. But why make that agreement, I don't know." Silence came again, and then Percy pitched. "Are there any other secrets you're keeping about Eragon or yourself?"

"Straight to the point," Brom whistled at his bold manner. The man was thoughtful for a minute. "He does have other family," Brom was careful. "And, regretfully, I could not take him with me to Carvahall without risking Eragon's life, or I would have. I _**wish**_ I could have."

"Who was he?" Percy whispered silently.

Brom sighed. "The eldest child of Eragon's mother. It's a complicated story."

"Ah," Percy acknowledged letting it go. It was yet someone else to possibly watch out for.

"My turn," Brom asked. "How are you going to convince the people to return to your gods?"

Percy glared at him. "You keep saying 'my gods'. They _**are**_ my family, you know."

"My apologies," Brom was quick to offer.

Percy let up. "I don't know," he admitted, deep in thought. "I still haven't figured that part out."

Brom snorted. "Some plan."

"Do you have a better idea?" Percy challenged. When Brom shook his head, Percy retorted, tossing a stick into the fire, "That's what I thought."

Silence was held again. Both seemed to be considering each other's answers. "Still want to continue?" Percy asked after a few moments.

Shaking his head, Brom replied, "Nah, I'm done for the day."

Nodding, Percy commanded, "Get some sleep then. I'll take first watch."

As Brom fell asleep, and as the night wore on, Percy thought on Brom's comment.

How _**was**_ he going to get the people to follow the Olympians?

(A few days later)

(Percy Point of View)

Percy was in deep thought. They were currently riding in their horses to Teirm. With the things that had happened lately, he was finding himself missing his world, and especially Annabeth. That morning he had received a letter from his cousin, Thalia, telling him that they had had an encounter with the Kanes. While he and the Greeks and Romans had maintained close alliances with the Asgardians and the Egyptians, at the same time, they were reporting that these pantheons, like the Greek/Roman gods, had other worlds in their possession as well.

Apparently someone had told them that Percy had gone to a different world.

He thought about his class mates from high school. With the mist, his graduation had already been forged, so that when he returned at some point, his life wouldn't be interrupted. But what was the point when the gods wanted him to rule here?

But, he supposed that they didn't see anything wrong with him keeping connections to the old world. After all, they knew what it meant to him.

As Percy rode, keeping a vague connection to Anaklusmos, he saw the city of Teirm sooner than the others did. They were ahead of schedule, having arrived sooner than everybody expected.

Blackjack's tail swished as Percy reigned him in. "Okay, here's the deal, we don't stay here for more than a day. I'm fine with leaving late tomorrow evening, as long as we leave tomorrow."

"We're here already?" Eragon questioned.

Brom had his eyes narrowed. "You can see the city already?"

Percy ignored him and rode forward. The answer was dead obvious.

The guards gawked at him as he entered the city in his unusual attire. It was at that point that Percy let Brom take point. When the man led him to a rich mansion, Eragon was in awe. But Percy looked at it, no expression on his face. His palace was bigger, and his elder brother's palace even bigger. His father's palace was even bigger than his elder brother's. Don't include Uncle Zeus's.

They were invited in. A man who introduced himself as Jeod let them in. In fact, he seemed surprised to see Brom. "I thought you were dead!" Percy overheard them talking.

The man lead them into one of the rooms, and when Brom tried to get rid of them, Percy raised his eyebrows. Brom sighed. They stayed the remainder of the time.

Jeod seemed curious about Eragon, especially when he learned he was Brom's son. But he seemed more curious about Percy. The man kept asking questions. In fact, it got on Percy's nerves so much that he excused himself.

He didn't get far. A cat that Percy could tell was not a cat, went in front of him. The cat looked at him and Percy looked back. Following the cat, he went next door where he saw a woman, plants growing all around her.

There was something about her that was different. She looked at him curiously when he came in. Closing the door to the herb shop, he sensed Eragon come in behind him. "I guess Brom doesn't want me there either."

The woman looked curiously between him and Eragon. Percy's eyes widened in understanding, and at this time Eragon seemed to realize something was going on. "You have Apollo's gift?" Percy whispered.

The woman seemed stunned. "It's been a while since I've heard of the old gods. But it seems they've been stirring lately." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not mortal?" she questioned suspiciously. Percy shook his head, but when he did so, her eyes went wide and she curtsied to him. "My prince," she greeted him. That's when Percy knew that she suspected he was either a demigod or a legacy.

Eragon seemed surprised. "How did you know?"

"There have long been tales of the old gods having children with mortals, and descendants amongst them," she murmured softly. "I'm Angela, your highness."

"Percy," Percy responded carefully. There was one thing for certain, she was a servant of the gods. "You must be a priestess."

"But even a priestess must serve the children and descendants of the gods," she responded back. "We are servants of them and must obey them. The children and descendants bridge the gap between gods and men, and we bridge the gap between the people and the descendants of the gods. We take orders directly from them. How did you know?"

"Because only someone of the old religion would recognize me as I really am," Percy was deep in thought. She was Apollo's priestess, he was certain. But how had she survived all this time? She wasn't immortal. "How is it that a priestess of Apollo is here?"

"I was blessed by Apollo," she admitted. "In order to see the return of the gods." She curtsied again. "I am at your service."

Percy nodded in understanding. He was going to have help.

At this point, Eragon was staring at him like Bolt, wanting an explanation. "Priestess?" he asked.

Percy turned back. "She's a servant of Apollo," he explained. "Though this land has not sacrificed to Apollo in a long time." He turned back to her. "Are you like the Oracle?"

"I served under the old oracle," she replied. "Though my powers are not on her level. But, as a priestess to Apollo, I have been gifted some."

Percy nodded in satisfaction, sitting down. "I need you to keep an eye on anything that can impede the progress of the gods. _**Anything**_. Do you understand?" She nodded. Then, Percy instructed further, "Tell no one what I am. I will reveal my true nature when it is time."

"Of course, your highness," she acknowledged his demands. Then she turned to Eragon. "Would you like to know anything about your future?"

Eragon seemed hesitant, but nodded. At this point, Percy left them, heading back to the stalls. Blackjack greeted him, but was shocked when Percy revealed what he had learned. 'A priestess of Apollo?' he gasped. Percy sighed in frustration. There was a lot the gods hadn't told him. Why hadn't they mentioned her before?

Blackjack swished his tail. 'You ever thought the gods put her in your path for a reason?'

'Maybe,' Percy thought back, contemplating. He didn't really know what to think. 'Eragon will obey me. He won't say anything.'

'And now you have an ally, and one that can see the future, at that.'

'She's not as powerful as the oracle. She's not a high priestess like the oracle is.'

'But she can still guide your path.'

'Maybe.'

At this point, Brom came out to see him. "Are you going to stay inside with us?"

Sighing, getting up, Percy nodded. Brom could tell that something had happened but he didn't care. "I'll come in later," he said.

Brom seemed to hesitate. "We're going to Jeod's office later. He thinks the library might have something."

"I'll stay behind," Percy whispered, deep in thought. But he knew enough to warn Brom, "Keep an eye out for danger. There may be unexpected happenings."

"What makes you say that?" Brom was surprised.

Percy snorted.

"Because when an oracle's involved, there's always danger."

(That night)

Percy was sleeping. He was watching a dark haired man around eighteen ride towards a city that he somehow knew was called Dras-Leona. He didn't know why, but he felt destiny calling him.

The man ordered food in lodging in the city at the local pub, trying to remain unrecognizable. Percy didn't know why, but he knew that the man was important, and he felt a sudden urging to go there.

Percy jolted awake. He knew that his dreams had meaning, but this was something far beyond anything he had ever experienced. He knew he couldn't deny the call. And so, he mist traveled, stopping outside the tavern.

Percy was in his cloak, and as he stepped inside the inn, he saw the stranger seated in the corner, watching things carefully. Using the mist to make sure he wasn't seen, Percy didn't reveal himself until he started sitting down.

The man was startled, but remained quite, looking around.

Percy was cautious. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The man shook his head. "No one," he promised.

Percy narrowed his eyes. "The gods don't think so. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known about you."

"Known?" the man asked.

Percy growled, looking away to make sure they weren't being watched. Curse that oracle-priestess for being around. Bad things always happened when oracles were involved.

The man was watching him, and Percy took out a piece of coral, giving it to the man. The man was hesitant to take it. "Somehow, and I don't know why, but I'm supposed to protect you. I don't know why. If you ever need anything, break this, and I will come."

He went to get up, but the man stopped him with a question. "Who are you?"

Not sure whether or not to give him an answer let alone an honest one, he decided to reply, "Percy."

Percy turned around, but suddenly he fell. Next thing he knew, he was awake in his own bed, gasping for air. He had been dreaming.

Getting up and sighing, he went over to his water bowl, not sure what to make of his encounter. Swishing his hand over the bowl, he concentrated. Then, the man from his dream came into view.

And to his surprise, beside the dreaming man, was one of his corals.

(Murtagh Point of View)

He felt like he was being watched, and he woke up with a start, feeling off after the dream he'd had. But, as he moved around, his hand hit something. To his surprise, a piece of coral lay beside him.

Murtagh picked it up in wonder. He didn't know why, but it was important. He looked at it in awe. And he wasn't sure what to make of it. None the less, he tucked it away until he could decide what to do with it.

For some reason, he couldn't help but hear the voice of the strange young girl he had encountered a week earlier. "Your king awaits you," she had told him, and that echoed in his mind now. "Your king awaits you."

At first he had thought it was Galbatorix, but if that was the case, why would the girl suggest this place to hide from the king's guards? To hide in plain site, as she'd suggested?

Exhausted, Murtagh decided to think about it later. From dreaming about a stranger named Percy with strange, expensive clothes, and encountering a little girl who seemed to have more wisdom than even the oldest of adults, he didn't know what to think.

"Your king awaits you," the voice echoed again.

He wiped his hand over his face. "Stop. I don't serve Galbatorix."

"Your king awaits you."

(Percy Point of View)

By the morning, Brom was giving a report of what he'd found. "It looks like the Ra'zac went to Dras-Leona."

Percy perked up all of a sudden. "Dras-Leona?" he echoed, interested.

"You've been there?" Jeod asked, food in his mouth.

Percy shook his head. "But it it is familiar to me."

The rest of his group seemed curious, but Percy wasn't willing to diverge more. Some how, the man he saw in his dream was connected to him. Why else would they both end up going to Dras-Leona? "I want to leave soon," he insisted.

Eragon, fortunately, waited until they were on the road. He was about to pull him aside, but Percy shook his head. "Say it to all of us," he commanded, and Brom seemed surprised.

"Is it something the priestess said to you?" Eragon demanded.

"Priestess?" Brom echoed, listening carefully.

Percy shook his head. "No. It's a demigod thing. I would, however suggest you pay attention whenever an oracle or priestess says anything. They don't say things for no reason at all."

"Oh," Eragon echoed. Both he and his father knew that something had happened the previous night. Looking at each other, they decided to leave Percy alone.

The days grew shorter, and as they journeyed across the land, they found the enviroment changing. It was later one evening when they stopped by the river, camping beside it. It was at that time, Percy felt an unexpected command to meet with Triton. Getting up, he commanded the others to stay behind.

Triton was waiting for him, human legs in human jeans, color ordinary. He motioned his brother to walk beside him. Percy obeyed. Finally, he asked him, "How do you like the land you're about to rule?"

Percy was speechless. What was he supposed to say? That he didn't like it? "It will take some time to get used to," he finally admitted.

Triton seemed amused, but then he was serious again, silent as they walked through the forest.

"My lord?" Percy finally decided to ask. When Triton turned his head slightly, indicating that Percy had his undivided attention, Percy continued. "Last night, I had a dream. There was a young man with black hair, slightly older than me. He was riding towards the city of Dras-Leona. Who is he?"

A look of concentration came over Triton. "I know that Artermis lured him to Dras-Leona," Triton answered carefully. "The Olympians apparently had a discussion about him that I was not privy to. Even mother won't tell me what it's about."

"Ah," was Percy's response.

Silence reigned again, and Percy tapped a different subject. "Why did no one tell me about Apollo's priestess?"

"Angela?" Triton questioned. Percy nodded his head. Triton was in deep thought again. "Apollo keeps tabs on her. The truth is, it's been a while since I've heard her name. I know she served Apollo under the Oracle, who is high priestess to him, and I know that when the gods pulled out, she was blessed to see them return. Other than that, I don't know more, as she's Apollo's. And you know gods. They don't like other gods meddling with their priests and priestesses."

"Why would Apollo do that?" Percy asked incredulously. "Why leave behind one of his priestesses? What about the fates?"

"He either had the blessing of the fates, or was very sneaky about it," Triton admitted. "If anyone could hide something from the fates, it's Apollo. I know of no other god that could."

Percy chuckled slightly. It was an interesting tidbit on his cousin, should he ever need a favor.

Triton then turned them back to the previous topic. "There is something you should know. The man you saw, Murtagh, is Eragon's half brother by the same mother but another father. Other than that, I'll leave the rest to you to figure out. But, based on what I've been able to glean, he is important to the cause. And he's going to need your protection, especially from Galbatorix. Galbatorix desires him for his heritage. But, he may be instrumental in helping to secure the kingdom to you, like Eragon."

"Is he trustworthy?" Percy wanted to know.

Triton tilted his head. "He has his own... problems. But as far as whether that makes him a threat? No. But he may bring along other problems and threats, just be aware."

"Which is great," Percy grumbled.

"You may like him yet," Triton cautioned. "Don't judge too soon. He's had a hard life. The gods _**are**_ looking out for him."

"Eragon is more trouble than he's worth," Percy growled, frustrated and blaming Eragon for Murtagh being thrown into his life now, with his problems.

Triton chuckled. "You like your vassal in the end, though. You're fond of him."

"I didn't want him as vassal."

"No," Triton acknowledged, frowning. "And I'm sure that Annabeth will understand that. But he's yours now, so you've got to protect him."

"Of course," Percy sarcastically replied. Then there was silence once again. Triton started leading him back. But before they could separate, he asked his brother, "What do I do about Brom?"

Immediately, an annoyed look was on Triton's face, and Percy could tell that Triton still hadn't forgotten his encounter with the former dragon rider. "That man needs to learn some respect," Triton snapped, and was gone in a mist of ocean spray.

Percy couldn't help but chuckle at that, but even then he agreed. He guessed the answer was that Brom was in his hands to deal with.

Sighing, Percy relaxed for a minute, stretching before heading back. When he did, everyone, including Saphira was looking at him. But, to his surprise, Anaklusmos was curled up, sleeping next to Blackjack.

Percy took in the peaceful sight before him before going to both his dragon and pegasus and curling up. The others were watching him, but he wasn't really in the mood.

Percy fell asleep.

(Percy Point of View)

By the time they entered into Dras Leona, the seasons' change was well underway. Brom booked them a room at the pub. Percy gave specific instructions to lay low, ask nothing, until he returned. "Chances are, I can glean what we're after, anyways, without needing to ask." With that he left.

Saphira and Anaklusmos were stationed a ways away from the city. But, Blackjack was with Percy, who began riding him around the city, scouting out. He didn't care about the looks he was getting. He was looking for one person, and one person alone, and that was the man that Triton had instructed Percy to protect. If his guess was right, riding a pegasus should attract the guy he was looking for.

Murmurs were spreading through the crowd, but he pretended to ignore them. He looked at one shop, and then another, pretending that he was looking for a place to do some transactions. And the city was big enough to where riding a horse, or rather a pegasus, wasn't out of the ordinary. Other than the fact that his "horse" had wings, of course.

Thinking back on his dream, he tried to think about where the young man might possibly hang out. 'If you're anything like you're half brother, you're be someplace where you can ignorantly get in trouble,' he snorted as he thought to himself.

But time passed. He didn't find what he was looking for. He decided to return to the inn.

After setting Blackjack in his stall, the stallion nuzzled him. 'You'll find what you're looking for.'

'Let's hope,' he thought to Blackjack, giving him a spare sugar cube. 'Sorry I don't have doughnuts on hand.'

'Please don't mention that. I don't want to remember the sugary sweet goodness of chocolate doughnut!' the stallion exaggerated, pawing the ground some.

Chuckling, Percy headed inside. And he stopped when he saw Brom and Eragon eating, right next to the man he was looking for.

Stalking up, annoyed that he had rode on all that long while only to be staying in the same pub as the very person he was looking for, he sat down, taking his gold and jeweled cloak off. The man widened his eyes when he saw him. "You!" he gasped.

Percy was still folding his cloak. "Me," he replied, and now Brom was looking at him suspiciously, and Eragon had his eyes wide.

Murtagh seemed wary. "I don't understand. I thought it was just a dream. How did you do that?"

Looking up, well aware that they were being watched, Percy shrugged. "I'm unpredictable, and so is my father. It happens without my control. It can either be useful, or highly annoying."

At this point, Percy could tell that Brom didn't like being left out of the conversation. "You two have met?"

"Physically? No," Percy ran his hand through his hair, not quite sure how to explain. "But a few weeks ago, my dreams landed in his."

"An interesting coincidence," Murtagh seemed thoughtful, maybe a little creeped out.

"I don't believe in coincidence," Percy replied, his voice calm.

At this point, Eragon summoned the waitress over. "You've got to be hungry," he told his lord.

Shrugging, Percy ordered his meal and then they began talking again. Pointing to Murtagh, he asked, "What are you doing at a complete stranger's table?"

Looking uncomfortable, Murtagh responded, "I encountered someone. A little girl showed me a painting of all your faces, and said you'd be here. It looked so real! So, I introduced myself."

Percy grimaced, all the while that the others seemed shocked at Murtagh's revelation. It was probably a photograph that he had seen. Or photorealism. "Artemis," he griped in an annoyed manner. When the others looked at him in a curious manner, he explained, "My cousin."

At this point, Murtagh seemed perplexed. And, he had a frown on his face. "Why would you let your young cousin wander around like that?"

Percy chuckled at the thought of his cousin who was much older than him being "allowed" to wander. Let's just hope that Murtagh didn't offend her, especially since he was of the opposite sex. She might turn him into a tree. Or, more likely, she'd turn him into a deer to hunt. "Let's just say she's not what she seems," he replied darkly.

Brom seemed to catch on, but Eragon seemed to want clarification. "Is she a god-"

"Yes," Percy interrupted him abruptly and quickly, trying to prevent the word "goddess" from coming out of his mouth.

Eragon didn't seem to think anything of the interruption. "Oh."

Murtagh had watched the exchange and didn't quite seem to know what to think about it. And Percy was relieved when he found out that his attempt to cover Eragon's blunder had worked. Murtagh hadn't heard the last partial word. "So, she's not what she seems." He seemed to take that as a challenge to figure out what she was. Great.

Annoyed, Percy turned back to Brom. Time to change the subject. "You don't seem to like the fact that Murtagh is here." Immediately, Percy could tell that Murtagh was distracted and forgetting the previous conversation. That was good.

Shock covered the man's face. "I never said that!" Brom snapped.

"It's in your expression."

Brom clenched his teeth and looked away. "It has nothing to do with that. It's just that I know who Murtagh is, and this can only mean that trouble isn't far behind."

"Welcome to my world," Percy muttered under his breath. For him, trouble was **_always_** at his rear.

Well, at least the man didn't have anything against his lover's other son. That much Percy could tell. There wouldn't be a problem on Brom's end, then. But, Percy had yet to see how Murtagh would respond to the fact that Brom was the father of his half brother. He wasn't all sure of what was revealed, yet. And Triton didn't seem to be in a mood to tell him much beyond the fact that the man was Eragon's half brother and to take care of him.

Murtagh was getting uncomfortable. They were too much out in the open. "Perhaps we can take the discussion in our room?" Percy suggested.

Murtagh seemed hesitant. "I have my own room," he replied.

Snapping his fingers, Percy summoned the waitress. Then, handing his gold to her, he pointed to Murtagh. "Refund him. His room is on me, for about a week's worth." The waitress nodded and left, and Murtagh's mouth was open in shock.

"Will we really be staying about a week?" Eragon asked.

Percy shrugged. They still had to investigate the Ra'zac. Plus, he needed time to convince Murtagh to join them, since that was the only way to care for him.

The waitress returned and gave Murtagh back his money. "That's really not necessary," he protested, glancing at Percy. The demigod shrugged.

Leaning back, he looked Murtagh over, the waitress curious. But, when Brom glared at her, she left. Still observing Murtagh, he calmly said, "We have much to discuss."

(Percy Point of View)

The week had gone smoothly, and they'd discreetly watched the Ra'zac, including Murtagh. During that week, Percy had had the chance to pull Murtagh aside and talk to him. While they still didn't trust each other entirely, a sort of bond of friendship had developed, and they were on the road to trusting each other. But each held back some.

While the clothes made it obvious that Percy was different, at the same time, Murtagh began noticing Percy's unusual powers. By the end of the week, he'd shown him his dragon, Eragon excited to show his. But he held back on his true demigod nature.

Brom took Murtagh aside to talk some to. The man took on a fatherly demeanor towards Murtagh. It was later in the week that he confessed Murtagh and Eragon's relationship, taking them both aside. Using Iris messaging, Percy observed what had happened without anyone knowing.

"We're brothers?!" Eragon gasped.

"You knew my mother?" Murtagh's expression was indecipherable.

Brom nodded, a sad look on his face. "It was a long time ago." Brom was silent a while longer, and then he turned back to them after pacing a bit. "I wanted you, I wanted to take care of you," Brom admitted to Murtagh. "And I know Selena would have wanted it. But it was impossible for me to get to you without arousing attention. We would have lived life on the run, and that's no life for a child. While I know your circumstances were, and never would have been on the best, what you would have had with me, had I have taken you, would have been worse. At least you had security. At least you were fed."

Murtagh seemed mad, and Percy could understand that. It was hard to hear that your terrible life could have been so different, and maybe even better in your opinion. While he wasn't sure what Brom was referring to, and while he wasn't sure what had happened in Murtagh's life, at the same time he understood the emotion. Many a times, Percy had wondered what his life would have been like if his father had been more involved in his life.

Murtagh stalked off. Percy didn't expect any differently. It was going to take some time until the man was calmed down. Sighing, Percy slashed through the Iris message while Eragon started arguing with his father. It was going to be a rough night between all of them, and Percy wanted to get some shut eye before they took it back into the city, and back into the room.

Brom and Eragon returned to the room, Eragon mad. Murtagh, who was now staying in their room, didn't return that night. Percy was not surprised. He wasn't worried, for he knew that Murtagh could take care of himself, but he also trusted Triton to have his back and look out for him.

And so, Percy continued feigning sleep until he fell asleep.

The next day, after entering the Ra'zac nest and finding none them present, (Percy suspected they had all flown away on the Lethrblaka, the cowards), Murtagh was with him. Percy had paired them together, but he had taken Murtagh personally, in order to give the man the space he needed from his family. Murtagh would have been affected the most by it. Eragon was still mad, but he'd grown up in a secure enviroment, so he wouldn't have had to deal with the trials Murtagh had, from what Percy had understood. Listening to the conversation, Percy had been able to pick out that Murtagh had had family trouble, of the deep sort. He didn't know more than that. That, and Percy trusted that Brom could protect his son.

Murtagh was eyeing his glowing sword. "That's unusual," he commented. Surprised, Percy used the mist to try to conceal it. "What glow?" he asked.

Murtagh snorted and looked straight at it. "I'm not blind!" Shocked, turning carefully black, aware that there was nothing here, he gave Murtagh a strange look. The man was starting to get uncomfortable. Then, Percy took a seashell out, trying to make it look like gold. "What do you see?" he asked.

"A seashell," Murtagh was giving him a strange look.

"Dang!" Percy realized. It always worked on Eragon and Brom. "You're clear sighted."

"Clear sighted?" Murtagh echoed.

Percy shook his head, not wanting to get into it here. "It means you see things as they are. The mist can't hide things from you."

"Mist?" Murtagh echoed.

"Never mind," Percy growled, putting the ballpoint cap back on his sword. He hadn't used it in front of Murtagh until today. "Just don't mention it to anyone."

When Murtagh realized that he wasn't going to get any answers there, he changed the subject. "Did you know?" he asked.

"Know?" Percy turned back to him, motioning him towards the entrance of the cave.

"About Eragon and I being brothers."

Percy stopped suddenly. He needed to be careful. "I found out a few days before you did," Percy confessed. "And from a different source."

"Different source?" Murtagh questioned, and Percy wasn't sure if he was mad or not.

Shrugging, Percy leaned against the cave wall, observing Murtagh carefully. "For some reason, the gods of my culture seem interested in you. I'm connected to them on a very intimate level. One of them told me about it."

"Gods?" Murtagh seemed disbelieving. "I don't believe in gods."

"Nor did I at first," Percy confessed. "But I was forced to confront it because of my heritage. And in reality, you have met gods before and not realized it."

"I have?" Murtagh had shock on his face.

Percy nodded. "That little girl you saw? That was no little girl. She was a goddess." He didn't know why he was telling him all this. And fortunately, Murtagh seemed to have forgotten about the fact that Percy had mentioned her as his cousin, thank goodness. He must have been too distracted by the stress of the situation. There was no need for the awkward conversation yet.

Murtagh seemed to consider, thinking back on things There was no connection between his and Percy's conversation, and the little girl he saw. That was good. Then, he turned back to Percy. "You said you're connected to them intimately?"

Nodding, Percy added, "I serve the gods directly, especially Poseidon, god-king of the sea. His son, Triton, told me about you." He wasn't quite ready to explain the fact that Triton was his brother and that Poseidon was his father.

An unusual expression was on Murtagh's face. "You serve them?" he asked. "Have you ever seen a god?"

Percy snorted. "I talk with them face to face. How else could I serve them?"

"But... I heard the dwarves have priests that serve their gods. I've never heard of them talking face to face with them."

Percy snorted again. "I'm not a priest, though I can act as one. In fact, priests answer orders from me. They're under my authority. I can do anything a priest or priestess can do, and more."

"But how can you serve your gods without being a priest?" Murtagh questioned, and Percy found himself lucky that Eragon popped up at that point so that he didn't have to answer anything. "Brom want's to leave. We're waiting for your approval."

"They're cowards," he answered, turning towards the entrance, walking out. "As long as we're here, they're not going to come back to Dras-Leona." And not especially after what Percy had done to them. Word must have gotten around. But he couldn't help it. He was used to battling things more powerful. In fact, the weakest monster could beat the Ra'zac, and was a real problem compared to the Ra'zac.

Percy led them out, leaving Murtagh to contemplate.

The camp was unusually awkward that night. He could tell that Murtagh was still mad from the revelations from Brom earlier, though Eragon seemed to have cooled down. He seemed to have gotten used to the fact that Brom kept secrets from him. Then, there was the fact that Murtagh seemed to have questions from earlier, questions Percy wasn't ready to answer.

'You should,' Blackjack thought to him. 'The gods picked him out for a reason. They didn't pick Brom out. And they certainly didn't pick Eragon out. Those two just ran into your hands. But Murtagh was picked out.'

'But, finding a way to break the truth to him about my godly heritage, I'm not sure he can handle that yet.'

'Triton could make it sure.'

Percy was smiling, lying on the ground, looking up at the sky. 'Yeah. I'm not sure he'd be gentle about it though. I'd be too afraid that Murtagh would tip the iceberg with him, if he comments that he doesn't believe in gods directly to a 's still mad enough as it is with Brom. Best not to chance our luck with him again with another similar comment.'

'Nothing like having a living god for proof, though.'

'Nope,' Percy agreed, thinking about his first time around. He turned around to see the camp.

Murtagh was busy tending the fire, a stressed look on his face. He looked like he didn't know where he belonged. Brom went and sat beside him. There was an awkward pause, and then the man asked Murtagh, "Long day?"

Another awkward silence came. "Yeah," he responded.

Percy turned around and went to sleep.

 **Please show your support and review! I worked hard on this! I want to hear your feedback! Authors thrive on feedback and reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5: Empress of New Athens

**I'm sorry this chapter took extra long to write. It's extra long in compensation.**

 **I also want to thank everyone who has reviewed my story so far. It's what keeps encouraging me to write this for you. I hope you like this next chapter.**

 **I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Percy Jackson.**

Chapter Five: Empress of New Athens

(Percy Point of View)

Nothing beat his fiancée. Nothing. She was the most beautiful demigod empress, and she was the fiercest warrior that he knew. So, when they're dreams connected while Annabeth was doing work in her palace, one day, Percy was delighted.

Annabeth looked up from her elaborately carved wooden desk. "Percy?" she was astounded.

Percy gaped for a minute, and then remembered his manners. "Are you dreaming, Annabeth?"

"No," she shook his arm. "You are?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Percy nodded.

"Yeah, it's night time here in Alagaesia."

Nodding her head, she put her pen down to give him her undivided attention. "I heard about that," she seemed interested. "One of the lands of the gods that the gods are claiming back. And now you've got your very own empire!"

"Yeah," Percy was less enthused. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"But it's a great honor," Annabeth emphasized. "Even my mother trusts you! I never thought I'd hear that from her! They trust you to accomplish this."

"And I still don't know how I'm going to do it," Percy looked down. He saw his body as he did, and he realized that he was floating in front of her, clothed majestically in his royal garments.

"You'll find a way," Annabeth reassured him.

"At which point I become emperor."

Annabeth was silent for a long moment. "Is it really that bad?" she softly challenged.

Percy was now silent. He thought about things for a moment. "No," he finally admitted.

"Then why don't you want it?"

"I don't know," Percy admitted. Some part of him was shaken. "I guess, I'm afraid to rule," he considered, surprised by the answer himself. "I'm afraid I'll screw it up. I'm afraid, because I've seen so many friends die. Knowing that I'll outlive everyone is hard."

His fiancée nodded. She could understand. "It's not that bad," she tried to comfort him. "In fact, it's kinda nice to be completely in charge, for once. You can have anything you want, do anything you want. Everyone is supposed to follow your orders."

"But there are still rules," Percy pointed out. "Even the Olympians are bound by rules."

"That doesn't make it any less freeing," Annabeth retorted. She leaned back. "As Empress, I make the rules. If the others don't like it, too bad. Granted, a ruler must do their best to be just. But still, there's nothing like being on the top of the totem pole."

"Or pyramid!" Percy laughed, thinking about "Pharaoh Kane".

"Or pyramid," Annabeth agreed.

They thought on things for a moment before continuing the conversation, and Percy was starting to feel better about the whole situation. "You know," Annabeth pointed out. "If they didn't think that you couldn't rule, they wouldn't have chosen you. They're showing an awful lot of confidence in you."

"Yeah," Percy considered the compliment. He'd led troops before. Why not rule?

The dream started fading. He was getting taken away. "I have to go, Annabeth."

"I know," and Annabeth seemed sad again.

Things went black and Percy opened his eyes.

(Eragon Point of View)

It was early in the morning when Eragon approached his half brother. He'd seen the bow and arrow from earlier, and they'd played each other, to see who was the more accurate shot. But this was the first time he was seeing the sword. "You sword fight?" he asked his brother.

Murtagh, who was tying up his equipment, nodded. "Do you?"

"Yes," Eragon admitted. "Brom taught me. Percy tried to teach me, but he was a bit too harsh. He said he was used to teaching those who were more resilient. That, and even Brom can't beat him. No one I met can. But he says his he knows others who can."

"Ah," Murtagh was taking the information on. "I can see that. He seems to have above average reflexes. And his speed, well, it's like what I imagine an elf's speed would be."

Eragon was deep in thought. He'd heard of the elves before. Murtagh was watching him. "You two seem awfully close."

"I believe in him," Eragon admitted. "And I trust him. Plus he's protective of me. So is Brom."

"I'm not sure what to think of Brom," Murtagh commented, leaning against the tree now that he had his horse saddled. "He killed my father."

Shocked, Eragon became careful. "I'm... sorry."

Murtagh chuckled darkly. "Don't be. Actually, I need to thank him for that. My father was a terrible father. I never liked him. No, I'm more afraid he sees my father in me than anything else."

Shaking his head, Eragon replied, "I don't think so. Whoever your father was must have been terrible, because I've only known Brom to protect people. But, he seems to like you. If he didn't he'd have demanded your removal. Instead, he reaches out to you. He just... has trouble connecting with others."

"Sounds like you've been on the receiving end of that a lot," Murtagh observed.

"He didn't confess he was my father until recently. He said it was too dangerous for me to know."

"And do you resent him for it?"

Wary, unsure of how to answer, Eragon admitted, "A little. But I think I understand his perspective."

Murtagh was silent. "So you're a dragon rider," he began. He didn't seem to know how to approach the subject. "I've put two and two together to know that Brom is _**the**_ Brom that was a dragon rider. I know he protected and helped steal one of the dragon eggs. But there were only three. So, where did the fourth come from?"

Murtagh had looked down as he asked and was now looking up again. Eragon had his mouth open, not sure how to respond to his brother. Frowning, Murtagh included, "You don't trust me?"

"It has nothing to do with that," Eragon immediately answered. "I mean, I want to. It's just... It's not my place. Percy... he's cautious and careful. He keeps a lot of things close to him. It took him a while to open up to us on things, and even then he hasn't completely opened up. And the truth is, I think there will always be distance between us and him. But that doesn't mean he won't open up to you someday. He's already opening up to you some."

The young man seemed to take these things to heart. "You seem to have a special connection to him."

"I think you do more than me," Eragon confessed. He'd seen the concerned looks from Percy and the way Percy seemed to watch over Murtagh. And there was jealously in his tone as he admitted it. He was the vassal, why should Murtagh get more care than him?

"You think?" Murtagh seemed surprised, completely unaware of Eragon's jealousy. Eragon stiffly nodded.

Murtagh ignored Eragon's expression, in deep thought. "I'm not sure what to think of Percy," he confessed. "I know he's a great fighter, I've seen it. I understand his caution, and that he's from a different culture. He must have a rich background, the way he dresses. But what I don't understand is what his motivation is for being here."

At this, Percy arrived on the back of his pegasus. He'd come from the air, and the pegasus landed. "My motivation?" he asked. Murtagh scowled when he realized that Percy had heard from that far away. "My only motivation is to do my father's bidding."

"You're father?" Murtagh questioned.

"My royal father," Percy brushed Blackjack down. "My father is a king."

"So," Murtagh put the pieces together. "You're a prince." The young man narrowed his eyes. "You don't have anything to do with that prophecy, do you? There have been rumors going around and I know they've displeased Galbatorix."

Percy chuckled without humor. "It's more of an annoyance, really. I'm here because their prophecy dictated it. What I want seems to be out of the question."

"And what do you want?" Murtagh stepped forward.

Percy stopped, looking up. "To go to college," he admitted. "To live a normal life."

Both Alageasians looked at each other in confusion and Percy went back to brushing his horse down before getting the hoof pick out. However, Murtagh seemed to catch onto something that Eragon didn't. To Eragon's jealousy, he connected with Percy on another level, probably because of his own background. Eragon could tell that Murtagh was rich, maybe titled. Though Percy was clearly richer. But, it was for that reason, that Murtagh understood.

"It's hard to live a life when you're born so different from everyone else. Let alone when you have a life of privilege."

Percy looked up, an understanding look on his face. "They make it seem like you have everything. They don't know what a cage is, despite the gilded and golden look."

Eragon scowled. He was out of the loop. Another wave of jealousy crossed him as Murtagh and Percy exchanged looks of understanding. "You're not merely rich," Percy concluded. "Were that the case, you wouldn't have made some of those comments. No, you're born to a special background." Percy cast a look behind him. "I don't think you're related to Galbatorix. And you look nothing like the images of seen of him. Nobility?"

Murtagh clenched his teeth and nodded. "Not that I want to flaunt my status."

Percy chuckled. "I completely understand that. Useful at times, though, especially if you want people to listen."

"Yeah, just tell them who you're related to, and people seem to shut up fairly quickly."

"Or try to use you," Percy seemed bitter.

"Yeah," Murtagh agreed in understanding, looking away in though.

At this point, Eragon cleared his throat. "I'm still here, you know."

Percy huffed a sigh. "I know," he replied. Handing his grooming kit and bucket to Eragon, he asked, "Do you mind fetching Blackjack some water?"

Eragon took the bucket with a scowl. He forgot. He was just a vassal, and a poor kid from Carvahall. There was no way he could compete with a couple of rich kids, even if one was his brother. Doing as he was told, he plopped the grooming bucket carefully next to Percy's supplies, not wanting to damage his lord's equipment. Then he went to fetch some water with the other pail that was some how by Percy's supplies when needed. He'd have to ask about that.

Saphira met him at the lake. 'Jealous?' she thought.

'I don't seem to really fit in. Percy and Murtagh are both rich. How can I compete with that?'

'Or, he's trying to adjust to Murtagh, and he wants to talk with him alone.'

'Still not fair!' Eragon griped.

'You are the vassal,' Saphira pointed out, laughing some. 'You made that decision.'

'And now I'm regretting it,' Eragon filled the bucket, though in truth he didn't really regret it. He still believed in Percy.

Saphira gazed at him closely. 'Just give him some time. Give them both some time.'

Eragon growled and turned away, walking back with the water.

Murtagh and Percy were chatting away happily.

(Percy Point of View)

He felt himself forming a friendship to Murtagh. Unlike his mortal friends from back home, Percy knew that eventually he'd be able to open up about his demigodly status to Murtagh some day. And, it was intriguing to him, having a mortal know.

Murtagh was riding behind him, Eragon and Brom taking up the rear. Anaklusmos and Saphira soared ahead.

The black haired man was looking up at the dragons in awe. "Amazing, isn't it?" Percy smiled at Murtagh.

Murtagh nodded. "It's a sight like nothing before."

Silence flowed for some time. Murtagh seemed to get some bravery before asking him a question. "Why is your father into a prophecy from so far away? I mean, your kingdom or empire must be far away."

Frowning, Percy wasn't sure what to do. He knew that Brom and Eragon were watching closely to see how he handled this. Murtagh had adjusted to the other members of the group, who seemed to have accepted him. And while Percy accepted him, he knew there was more distance between him and Murtagh than him and the other members of the group. In order to make Murtagh feel comfortable and truly part of the group, Percy was going to have to open up to him the same amount that he did the others. Plus, Percy was in charge, and thus his opinion mattered the most, perhaps making and breaking whether or not Murtagh truly felt welcome.

Using his hands, he summoned water from the river. Murtagh watched in awe. But he also used the water mist to teleport something to him. He made the ground quake. These were things Alagaesian magic couldn't do. Murtagh's eyes were wide open.

"Earthshaker. Stormbringer. Father of horses. The god-king of the sea, Poseidon, is my father."

Murtagh seemed shaken about what he'd just witnessed. "Are-are you a god?" he asked.

Percy chuckled amused at the fact. He would be some day. But for now- "No! If I were, things would be even more different between us. No, my father is a god, but my mother was mere mortal. So yes, I am divine. But I also have human emotions."

"Godly emotions are different?" Murtagh asked gaining confidence.

"Demigods and legacies are different from humans and gods. And gods are different from demigods, legacies, and humans." No need to mention the fact that humans were at the bottom of the totem pole due to their lack of divinity.

"Because you're a blend?" Murtagh concluded.

"No," Percy frowned. "We bridge the gap between the gods and humans. You could say we're a separate species, although we're divine. We don't really behave like humans or gods."

"Ah," Murtagh seemed overwhelmed. "Then that's where the prophecy comes in. The gods want one of their own in Alagaesia."

"You could say that," Percy cautiously replied. "But, its more complicated than that. The Olympians own this world. It's on loan. But that time is up. So, father asked a personal favor of me. And how could I say no?"

"I suppose not, especially when you're father is a god," was Murtagh's answer.

"Yeah."

"And you're dragon?" Murtagh dared to breach the subject.

Percy turned to him. "What about her?"

"Where did this fourth dragon come from?"

Percy raised his eyebrows in annoyance. "Seriously? I just told you I was half-god, and you wonder where the dragon came from? Where do you think? The gods created things originally, _**including**_ dragons, what makes you think they couldn't do it again?"

"Well don't snap my head off!" Murtagh snapped.

"Mind your manners," Percy was irritated. Maybe he was developing a bit of a godly complex, because he was never tired before of having mortals diss him. Annoyed, yes. Maybe angry. But he never felt that they should treat him differently because he was a demigod. But, that seemed to be changing. Was he slowly becoming a god, despite the Olympians' promise to wait until he died?

Eragon seemed to step in when he noticed the fight. "Murtagh," he approached cautiously. "Are you really going to treat someone who's half god that way?"

Caution entered Murtagh's face, and he warily eyed Percy.

"'S okay," Percy sighed a little. "I could have approached a little differently."

"Sorry too," Murtagh seemed bashful. He seemed to be realizing that his behavior toward Percy hadn't been appropriate considering Percy's status. That, and the last thing Percy needed was the gods of his panthoen angry, especially when someone like Zeus wouldn't have minded blasting the guy's butt off.

There was silence for a minute as they traveled. In reality, Percy had no idea of where to go. He knew his task: convert the people back to the original pantheon. But, where to begin? He highly doubted that simply walking into random villages and cities and declaring that they had new gods to worship would work. And he had absolutely no intention of starting a crusade. Another way would have to be done.

His mind reverted to home, and how everyone hailed him as a hero. He remembered how much it frustrated him. He didn't feel like a hero. He'd lost so many people under his command. And yet, people praised him as a hero. So surely, there was something about him, (other than his rebellious attitude towards the gods), that attracted many people to him. Maybe that was what people were viewing when they considered him a hero. So, while he many not have felt like a hero...

But... why not play the part?

Why not be the hero?

He didn't have to feel like one. He just had to be himself, and act like he knew what he was doing, something he always did back home.

Could that be why the gods chose him? Did they see something in him that could solve the differences between people and unite them? Was he truly the right person for the job, after all?

Every good story had a villain that needed defeating, and he had Galbatorix. He knew that Galbatorix had many followers, so he was going to have to start by finding ground with those who detested him and had been affected by him. Then, maybe he could reason with some of Galbatorix's followers. And being a nomad could be fun. He'd done quests before. This was just an extended quest. So, instead of treating it as a dreaded assignment from the gods, why not have fun with it? Why not treat it as a quest or... an adventure?

It was time for an adventure!

The others were watching Percy contemplate everything. While they didn't know what was going on in his mind, they could tell that he was planning their next move. "Murtagh," he addressed the rider next to him.

Murtagh turned to him. "Yes?"

"You mentioned to me that Galbatorix sent troops to Bullridge?"

"Yeah," Murtagh was instantly cautious, seeing Percy's expression.

Another thoughtful look was on Percy's face. "Why?" he asked, instead.

There was hesitation from Murtagh. They sensed craziness coming. "They defied the king is why."

More thoughts were forming into a plan. It was just the four of them. While, ideally, he wanted at least one female heroine with him, (he was thinking of Annabeth), he didn't know any mortals that would join in the fighting here, apart from Angela. It was simply not ingrained in their culture, unlike the Greek and Roman culture. Women had less rights here. And he needed Angela where she was at. Annabeth, he knew, would join him in due time. But she was busy right now, and expected him to be able to take care of things himself.

He'd have to find his first female heroin later.

Reigning Blackjack in to stop their path, he announced, "We're heading to Bullsridge."

"Why?" Brom was in shock. "What are you expecting?"

"To save the city," Percy replied. "We have to do something with our time. We can't just travel around forever."

"Us? Against a whole army?" was Murtagh's alarmed look.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "I've beaten the odds before. And I've also seen what a well oiled small team can do. They can do immense damage."

"We don't have your training," Eragon pointed out. Of course his vassal would oppose him.

Huffing some air out, Percy explained, "Then we'll have to speed things up. There are still a lot of things we can do to slow the advance of the army. Also, I want to see if we can find a female heroine along the way."

"A woman? Join us?" Eragon was surprised. But he shut up immediately when Percy glared.

"You haven't seen what a woman can do," was Percy's dark reply, thinking about his warrior fiancée Annabeth.

He knew the others were exchanging looks behind his back as he rode off more, but he didn't care. Eragon would follow, and so would Brom. Murtagh may or may not, but now that he knew he had family connections, he was willing to bet that he would. Murtagh seemed to be getting attached to Eragon and Brom. Plus, Percy was now accepting of him.

Sure enough, they followed.

That night, as they camped, Saphira had a chat with him. 'Why Bullsridge?'

'Because it's in immediate danger,' he explained.

'Percy has experience leading troops and small quests. I trust he can manage it,' was Anaklusmos' smooth voice in his and Saphria's heads. Saphira seemed to take his dragon's word to heart, for she didn't question him after that.

At that point, Eragon sat beside him. "Everything all right?" Percy asked in concern.

Eragon shook his head. "I've been talking to Brom. I've been having dreams, and I thought nothing of them before. But now, they're getting more vivid than ever. I think there's an elf in danger."

"An elf?" Percy echoed, deep in thought.

"In Gil'ead, as far as we can reckon."

This made Percy think. Gilead was smaller than Bullsridge, and while he knew a troop guarded it, they would feel more protected in their fortifications. Also, an entire army moved slower than a small group. Perhaps they could easily rescue her and rescue Bullridge afterwards. It would also give him more time to test his new found group. Not to mention, the elf might be an important ally. Any individual from another race that he could make friends with was a step into gaining the support of that race itself.

Not to mention, it was a way to find out about the elves and gauge their race before meeting a bunch of them.

Percy turned back to Eragon. "I thought you were wary to have a small group take on a larger one?"

Eragon shrugged. "It seems like the right thing to do, to rescue her."

"And rescuing the people of Bullridge isn't the right thing to do?" In the end, he really did want to rescue them. He liked protecting his home world, and the thought of getting back into something familiar was comforting.

"I see your point," Eragon confessed, going to sit back next to Brom. Murtagh was on his other side.

Dusting his pants off, Percy stood up. "Get some rest," he ordered. "We're going to rescue the elf."

To his surprise, Brom seemed relieved.

(Eragon Point of View)

Percy was very explicit in his instructions to him: they were to be in and out as fast as possible. This was to be a quick operation.

Spying out Gil'ead had apparently not been Percy's intent. Murtagh, who had disguised himself in a pub in the city had returned a report that there was a shade present. After Brom's explanation, Eragon knew that caution had to reign. Not to mention, Percy kept casting suspicious glances at Brom ever since he had started talking about a need to rescue the elf. Since Percy seemed to pick up on things easily, he wondered what his lord had picked up that he hadn't.

Percy seemed at ease in his strange armor. But, when he disappeared as the group moved into the night, only Murtagh was seen throwing glances to the empty space at Eragon's left. He wanted to ask Murtagh what that was about, but did nothing. He stopped looking shortly afterwards

When they got to the door into the barracks, they found it open, indicating that Percy had succeeded in his task. How, he didn't know. There were soldiers unconscious everywhere. And yet, no one was alerted.

They moved silently, aware of the sleeping soldiers in the rooms all around them. As they made their way into the dungeon, Brom used some magic to open the doors. They filed in, one by one, then they split apart as they were told to do. From there, Eragon slunk quietly beside Murtagh. For some reason, it felt strange to move next to him, knowing that Murtagh was his brother. Murtagh glanced over at him, and Eragon began wondering if the concept of the two of them being brothers was strange for him too.

They met up with Brom shortly later.

Brom was surveying the damage that Percy had caused with a grim face. "Just what we need," the man muttered. "A half god running around."

Eragon wasn't sure he agreed. Percy was powerful, and that was enabling him to clear the way so that they could rescue the elf. Surely, power wasn't such a bad thing, then, if used properly?

The way leading up to the elf's cell was clear. They had no trouble getting into the cell and accessing the elf. In fact... it was strangely quiet.

Where was Percy?

(Percy Point of View)

A notorious man with red eyes stood in front of Percy. Riptide was out, glowing, but the man, a shade as Percy knew he was called from his lessons, was grinning slightly.

Percy gazed at him with disinterest. All he was doing was distracting Durza while the others completed the task.

Durza was surveying Percy's expensive clothes. He clicked his tongue. "I don't think I've seen such... strange... _**patterns**_ before on fabric. It must be worth such an exquisite cost." He man pulled his lips between a snarl and a smile.

Percy mimicked him with a mocking smile, somewhat having fun playing with him. He knew what this was, an effort to get information out of him. "I wouldn't know. No one's offered to buy it from me."

They were in a room, and were standing on opposite sides of one another, the door to his left and Durza's right. But, when Durza made a move towards the door, Percy quickly stepped in to block it. "Going somewhere?"

"Going to kill me?" Durza asked.

Percy snorted. That wasn't his intention yet. There was something he wanted to know. "Those creatures, the Ra'zac," he demanded with a cold tone to know. "Was that you?

"Me?" Durza feigned surprise. "Do you really think that the king rests everything on _**my**_ shoulders?"

'Just keep him talking,' Percy thought. 'Just keep him talking.' And so, he continued on, mockery in his tone. "What? Aren't you a second in command of sorts to him?"

"I don't think the king trusts anyone, really," Durza drawled. "He never really trusted anyone but Morzan, not even the rest of the foreswarn. And looked what happened to them?"

"Oh," Percy pretended sympathy in a sarcastic tone. "Afraid you won't live up and become his favorite right hand man."

A dreaded smile was on Durza's face. "I don't need to."

"You can't really tell me that you didn't have anything to do with that raid," Percy was more direct. "You fingerprints are all over it."

A puzzle was on Durza's face, but at that moment, a boom was heard. Durza's head snapped to the right in the direction of the sound. Percy, knowing that the others had completed their task, decided not to stay. So, smiling, he vanished in a puff of water.

When he re-materialized on the outskirts of the city, not sure why he hadn't killed the shade yet, he went to meet up with his companions. It would have been simple, and yet he felt like there was something more he needed from Durza. Durza held the key to some sort of ancient knowledge surrounding the deal between the gods and Unulukuna. That much Triton had told him. What it was, Triton was never specific, being vague. Even Durza didn't know what he had. He had stumbled across whatever it was, not even knowing what it was.

Percy needed time to interrogate the shade. But he had no time right now. His companions needed him.

And that elf needed him.

(Murtagh Point of View)

They met in a cave, the elf carefully bundled in blankets to keep her warm. She was pretty, one pointed ear exposed behind her black hair. But he couldn't help but be amused as he saw his half-brother's infatuation with the elf that he tried he hide.

When Brom saw this, he snorted. "Forget it," he told his son. "You're too young for her. You're a child in elf's terms."

Eragon was doing his hardest not to be deflated. A portion of Murtagh wondered if the mysterious Percy would stand a better chance with the elf than them.

Percy materialized in some water in the cave. It startled all of them, causing them to stand. But, when they saw it was Percy, they sat down, relieved.

"I wasn't sure if anything had happened to you," Murtagh voiced his concern. To his surprise, Percy didn't respond, but instead was standing as if in great thought. Then his eyes seemed to notice the elf. He walked right up to her.

Taking her arm in his, Percy left his fingers on her wrists. He sighed. "I need water," he announced out loud.

Everyone was puzzled. But, when Percy glared at his servant, Eragon sighed and got up. He made a move towards the entrance of the cave, where it was still dark when Percy called out somewhat impatiently, exasperated, "Where are you going?"

"Water!" Eragon explained, turning around abruptly.

Percy shook his head. "The back of the cave. There's some water there. Fetch me a pail, please."

Eragon huffed in frustration and, after grabbing a bucket that had materialized beside Blackjack, being careful not to touch the winged horse, or whatever it was, Eragon marched off.

It was only when Eragon was out of earshot that Brom spoke up, almost a caution for Percy. "She's poisoned with something special. It will take the magic of many magician's to heal her. It wasn't until I saw Arya that I fully recognized what this was. I haven't seen it in years. Now I know why some of those killings in Carvahall caught my attention. I couldn't quite pinpoint it before."

Percy was ignoring them, sitting on the ground. Brom spoke louder. "As I said, it will take many magicians to heal her, and I am only one. Eragon and yourself are untrained. Our best bet is to get to the Varden-"

Percy finally interrupted, clearly having had enough. "I have no intention of using your magic, only the power of the gods." He glared at Brom.

Both Murtagh and Brom were taken aback. Stepping up, Murtagh asked, "H-how?"

Just then, Eragon appeared, pale in hand. Percy's eyes softened when he saw the youngster. "Thank you," he told Eragon as Murtagh's brother set the pail down. Murtagh couldn't help but notice how Eragon beamed under the praise.

Using his powers, Percy lifted some water from the pail with his powers. "You know that my father's the god of the sea, right?" he said.

Everyone remained silent as they waited to see what happened.

The water enveloped the elf for a moment before disappearing inside her. Then, Percy closed his eyes. They stayed like this for ten minutes, and finally, the elf coughed. A black liquid came out of her mouth, and it was guided by Percy and was tossed further inside the cave. "I suggest you don't touch it," Percy cautioned. "Let it seep into the rock."

The elf was looking around, not sure of her surroundings. But, when her eyes landed on Brom, she visually relaxed. "How?" she asked in weak voice.

Brom was about to answer when all of a sudden Percy got up and headed out of the cave. Murtagh did his best to go into the shadows, lest his features which looked much like Morzan alarm the elf.

The elf glanced at him and tensed slightly before relaxing. He could tell from her expression what she was thinking. If Murtagh were really dangerous, then Brom wouldn't have let him accompany them.

Brom shook his head when the elf glanced back at him, wanting an answer. "Not my place," he muttered, but even he had a surprised expression that the elf was healing.

Having had enough of the circumstances, Murtagh left the cave to see if he could find Percy. They were high up, and the place was rocky. To his surprise, he saw Percy in the distance, talking to someone. The figure turned and looked at him, eyes piercing even at this distance, flame like. There was a subtle sense of power about him. Murtagh's gut clenched.

Murtagh was frozen in his spot. But, fortunately, a mirage appeared in the surroundings distorting the area behind the mysterious figure, and as the person stepped back, he disappeared into the mirage. Then the mirage was gone.

Percy walked over to Murtagh, who was still frozen on the spot, admittedly frightened.

A concerned look was on Percy's face. "You all right?"

He was pale, he could tell. "Who is that?" Murtagh demanded to know.

Percy grimaced, an unhappy look on his face. "My cousin. Ares. The god of war."

As Percy walked on, Murtagh couldn't help it. His limbs wouldn't move, and he was staring into the distance where the god had disappeared.

That was when Murtagh knew: these gods were dangerous.

(Brom Point of View)

They were traveling on horseback, Percy on his pegasus, and the forest of trees was all around them. Percy was in the lead, as always.

Arya kept glancing at him, and Brom could tell that Arya wanted to take him aside to ask him questions. She was casting suspicious glances at Percy, almost like she didn't know whether or not he served Galbatorix. Either that or it was clearly his odd clothing.

When Percy had dressed behind a tree, he had come out clothed completely differently from how he normally was. As Percy had put it, "I wanted something a little more casual." His denim pants were less decorated (Brom was pretty sure that was what Percy said the fabric was, and was his shirt called a tea shirt? The shirt didn't look made of tea). The normal gold and silver that he wore, and the elaborate design was gone.

When Brom had had a questioning look about the doll like creature with an arrow through it, Percy blushed. "Gift from my cousin Thalia." He'd walked on.

At this point, Brom knew without mind reading that all the members of the group, except Arya who was not in the know, were thinking the same thing. (He couldn't go in Percy's mind of course.) Another half god? Or another god?

Whatever the answer was, Percy never specified and he set them on the road destination unknown. He'd warned Arya ahead of time to not touch his pegasus. "I'm not responsible for what happens to you if you do," he warned rather vaguely before mounting and riding off.

When they stopped at some point to water their horses, Arya pulled him aside. Brom, knowing it was inevitable, followed him. "Is that the son of Morzan?" she motioned to Murtagh in the distance talking to Percy and Eragon.

Brom hesitated, and then nodded. At least they hadn't gone into the subject of dragons yet. When Brom had made his concern about Eragon's mark while Arya was asleep and unaware, Percy had promised to hide it, but he never specified how. Needless to say, he hadn't seen it since that point. He supposed it was the godly power that Percy possessed.

Arya was immediately concerned. She folded her arms. "A lot has seemed to have happened since I last saw you. I thought you were dead."

"It's... complicated," Brom said. Percy glanced over, and Brom could wonder if he could hear the conversation.

"And the strange dressed teenager?" Arya glanced over. Percy met her eyes, no emotion. She looked away. "What's with him. He seems... off." She was in deep thought at that point. "He's strange for a human."

"He's not-" Brom began but at that point Percy popped up beside them. "We're going to have a meeting. You guys might want to come over."

Brom sighed. Perhaps, Percy suspected that Brom was going to spill his secret. But, he wasn't. He had something different to say. None the less, he followed Percy over.

Arya frowned but followed. They all sat in a circle.

"So," Percy began. He was looking around at everybody. "I know that there are different agendas here. I think it's time to split."

This sent Brom into a shock. The thought of being separated from his son was something he couldn't bear. "I'm staying," Brom assured.

Percy frowned, but went with it. He turned to Murtagh. Murtagh huffed. "Where have I to go?"

Eragon didn't say anything. It was a given that he would be going wherever his lord went. That wasn't an option. That left only Arya. Percy stared at her deliberately.

Arya was pursing her lips. "We should be making our way to the Varden."

"If that's what you want," Percy shrugged. "I'm not holding you back. You're no prisoner."

"You're not going?" Arya seemed rather upset.

Percy shrugged again. "Not my priority."

"People are dying," and Brom knew Arya was trying to push him.

But Percy was not to be manipulated, and clearly knew about politics. "I know!" was his frustrated reply. "I'm not abandoning the people! However, I'm not sure that fighting with the Varden is the best, either."

Pursing her lips, Arya looked away. She glanced at Brom. "You won't go? They need to know you're alive."

Brom hesitated, looking at Eragon. Finally, pulling his political card, knowing his fate lied with Eragon, he replied while watching him, "I will not leave my son and stepson."

Shock was on Arya's face, but she did her best to mask it. She looked at Eragon. "Son... and stepson...?"

Percy, who was now munching on a snack, casually watching, pointed at Eragon and Murtagh. "Those two," he said, mouth full, perhaps in revenge for what he perceived that Brom almost did.

At this point, even Brom knew the elf was outmaneuvered. She seemed hesitant, but she replied, slowly, "I will stay, then."

Her tone was filled with caution. Brom had known her for a long time, and as he analyzed her behavior, he knew that Arya knew that circumstances had changed.

And Arya was uncomfortable with it.

(Percy Point of View)

Percy didn't like that Brom had nearly revealed who he was. He couldn't trust the man. It was a good thing he had stepped in when he did. While he ideally had wanted to go to Bullsridge, it was out of the question now that they had Arya. He hadn't anticipated her being that much of a problem to him, especially since he'd rescued her and healed her. He didn't need to give her any more clues as to his plan. She was watching his every move. What he needed was a bigger move to catch more followers and quicker.

They were now packing up, ready to move on again. But Arya wasn't having any of it. As she watched him pack, she stepped forward.

Percy knew she was calculating what to do. She wanted information from him. He needed to be cautious. "I never thanked you for saving my life."

Brushing it off, putting the bitless bridle on Blackjack, he said, "No prob. Don't mention it."

The elf had her features carefully schooled, but he knew that she had scowled inside. "Mind if we talk a bit before we leave?" she offered in a smooth tone.

Sighing, knowing that she was going to corner him with questions, but knowing that it would be an opportunity to learn more about her, Percy stepped away after patting Blackjack. 'Good luck,' his pegasus told him.

Percy stepped away, walking deep into the forest with Arya. "You know Brom?" he asked. He wanted to be the one to start the interrogation.

"Yes," Arya carefully replied. Percy nodded. Neither looked at one another.

After they had walked a little ways, Arya turned around abruptly. "Why won't you go to the Varden?" she demanded.

Raising an eyebrow, Percy countered, "What does it matter to you? You don't need my permission to leave, you know."

Glancing back the way they came, Arya continued, "I know that Eragon is a dragon rider, though I see no mark now. If Brom can hide his, he can teach his son how. A rider, which the Varden desperately needs, must come with me. I saw the mark but it's not there anymore."

"So am I," Percy played one of his cards, letting the mist drop around his hand, lifting it up to show Arya. It was Brom's idea to hide Eragon's mark at first, (Brom had never seen a mark on Percy as Percy always used the mist), but for him, it didn't bother him whether or not Arya knew about him and Eragon being riders. Oh well, Brom would have to live with it. Brom probably hadn't realized that Arya had seen the mark on Eragon before he'd asked him if he could hide it.

Arya gasped. "One of the eggs hatched for you?"

Maintaining a calm demeanor, Percy asked, "What is it to you? I will not be manipulated by others, not even the Varden, or the elves." He knew his subtle accusation would provoke outrage, but, if he played his cards right, he might be able to get the elves to cooperate with him. Arya was more trouble than she was worth.

"You dare..." Arya warned.

"I dare," Percy was cold this time. He'd been a pawn of gods long enough, and he was not going to be a pawn again. Especially, not with an oath on him. "You think I don't know what this is about? Wanting to prop someone up as a hero, a puppet? You're only trying to play with my life, the life of others who might have a dragon for them, and you're trying to get us to fulfill your agenda. Galbatorix is the same way. Tell me, what separates you from him?"

"Galbatorix destroyed the riders," Arya seethed. "Destroyed the dragons."

"So revenge?" Percy interrupted with a harsh laugh. "You should know, vengeance has a way of turning it's nasty, ugly head, and swallowing the instigators whole." He turned around, having had enough of the conversation. "I'm not playing out your revenge," he called out.

Arya caught up to him. "It's nothing to do with revenge."

"Prove it," Percy coldly responded, tired of her games and dishonesty. "I've been around. I've seen some of the oppressions the Varden are going through. It's nothing more than a political regime intent on suppressing certain groups. Some people even want to suppress magicians, just because of their magic. All are fighting for power. You want me to join **_that_**?"

"It can be fixed!" Arya reassured him.

Percy turned around abruptly, facing her. "No it can't," he replied. "I've seen it. A monster like that only grows. Trading one evil for a lesser evil does not work. It always ends up the same."

"And you have an alternative?" Arya was cold.

Percy turned around. "The enemy of the enemy is not my friend. I'm obliged to share nothing."

"Hmm," he heard Arya say behind him.

Walking up to Blackjack, he mounted the pegasus. 'Something wrong, lord?' he asked.

'That elf is getting on my nerves,' Percy replied. He didn't even want to be here in the first place. Being a prince sucked.

They began moving out. Where, even Percy didn't know. What he did know was that Annabeth had pledged him troops when the time came.

Percy knew he needed to make contact with the locals (though preferably without Arya, which didn't look like that would happen any time soon). His first thoughts had been Surda. And, since the Olympians owned this world, there was always the continents across the sea that had never known the reign of Galbatorix. Their loan was coming up, and maybe Unulukuna could be convinced to let Percy have it sooner.

That's when the realization hit Percy. Most of the people here believed in gods. If he could gain recognition in the sight of their gods, then the people, at least the dwarves, the humans, and the urgals would follow suit.

Had Triton been hinting to him when he'd said that Percy was ambassador for the Olympians to the foreign gods? Was he saying that he needed to meet with the gods first who had borrowed this world?

He knew the layout. He knew the Varden stayed with the dwarves. Perhaps he'd have no choice but to encounter the Varden sooner or later.

Sighing, he knew where he needed to go. If he could convince the desert tribes along the way, even better. It was time to play his role as ambassador. But there was no need for the elf to know they were headed to Farthen Dur, at least not yet.

(Brom Point of View)

Percy had taken them into the desert, and since he was the son of a water god, it had taken him nothing to locate wells underneath. They had used these to keep hydrated.

Percy's dragon, Anaklusmos was flying overhead with Saphira. Only occasionally would they land, conversing mind to mind with their riders.

About the third day, Arya, who was riding on Brom's horse behind him said, "I know this path! He's taking us to Farthen Dur!"

She had pretty much hissed it. Whatever had passed between her and Percy had not ended on good terms. "I thought he didn't want to go to the Varden," she grumbled.

Brom shrugged. He wasn't sure what Percy was planning, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the prophecy. "I think Percy is well acquainted with politics, Arya. I highly doubt he's taking us to the Varden themselves. Perhaps his ploy lies in the dwarves."

"What is hoping to accomplish?" Arya seemed amused on another level. "The dwarves and the Varden are allies. He wants to avoid joining the Varden, but he has no followers!"

"Unless," Brom considered in proposition, not sure how he felt about it. "He has a way to break the allegiance of the dwarves from the Varden and secure it to himself."

At this point Arya was alarmed. "He can't succeed. He has no clout!" She seemed almost like she was trying to convince herself.

'Not among mortals,' Brom thought. But, Brom knew that the dwarves were highly religious, just like Percy was. And so were the majority of the Varden. Eragon and Murtagh were beginning to consider religion themselves since Percy arrived. And Brom himself was beginning to wonder.

That wasn't the major thing, though. It was the dwarves that had carefully guarded the prophecy about Percy. 'And that clout may be greater than any mortal, even Galbatorix, can come up with,' Brom thought, thinking of how religious even Galbatorix's empire was. If it came out that the prophecy was regarding Percy, and if it especially came out that Percy was half god, Galbatorix wouldn't be able to compete with that, and even he would loose his followers.

'Percy has religion on his side,' Brom realized. He had all the clout he need, and above and beyond.

Arya wasn't taking Brom's silence well. "Brom?" she prodded more.

Brom shook his head. "We'll have to wait and see," was his answer.

But the elf wouldn't take this. "What do you know that you're not sharing with me?" Arya pushed further.

Brom remained silent.

Arya, seemingly frustrated now, but patient pushed on. "You haven't kept secrets from me before. Why now?"

Sighing, he responded. "The nature of the game has changed, Arya. Much has happened since you've been in prison. A new playing card has come on the field unexpectedly, and that is Percy. Nobody was expecting it."

Arya seemed to draw her conclusions from this. And she wasn't happy about it. "You think Percy has the ability to pull this off."

"He did save you, you know," Brom pointed out.

The elves were going to have to be careful with this particular playing card that was Percy. They weren't religious, but all the other races were. Percy would be the grande uniting factor, one way or another. The only thing that remained to be seen was how this played out. Would they get another Galbatorix, or would there be peace?

The only difference, this time, is that all the nations would back Percy. He was sure of it. Even Galbatorix didn't have the backing of all the races, let alone all the humans. Religion was a powerful card to play. And it was a card that the elves underestimated due to their disbelief in religion. And if the nations did back Percy, then the elves, if they opposed, would be all alone.

It could be dangerous for the elves if they ended up at odds with Percy, and that was what Brom was afraid of. He knew that they hadn't seen all of Percy's powers yet, and he knew already that Percy was more powerful than Galbatorix, and Galbatorix was more powerful than that shade Durza, whom he'd subdued.

Brom was cautious of Percy. But he was also aware of reality. Percy could defeat the king. But, what would they have on their hands afterwards? And if the elves caused too much aggravation to Percy, and since he would have a powerful influence in things afterwords, what would happen to the elves, especially if they became aggressive to Percy? He was pretty sure Percy would strike back.

They broke for the night. Arya went off into the distance, keeping the camp in sight, all alone.

(Percy Point of View)

He was sleeping, he knew. He was back at camp. Somehow, he knew he was communicating back home.

Jason was busy with dueling Nico, and Percy walked past them. Thalia, who was visiting with the hunters, was the one he wanted to speak to.

When Thalia spotted him, she got up and walked with Percy out into the forest. "I know you're wanting advice," Thalia started. "I swear, I don't have anything to give you there." Even she seemed worried.

Percy shook his head. "Ares said the hunters would be arriving at some point."

"Lady Artemis promised that her sisters in arms would be there," Thalia confirmed. "I don't know why. One demigod is good enough. Annabeth's empire was created from supporters of the gods. But, apparently, yours, which will have many who don't have supporters of our gods, that are weak, need more demigods? Why? They're not as powerful as even a single demigod."

"Ares wants a pankration," Percy was abrupt. "Or a gladiator duel in the name of the gods. Many hunters are half god. I get the feeling he wants the demigods to hold a little festival to make it clear that these lands are being returned to the Olympians."

"A religious festival!" Thalia scoffed. "They don't even believe in the Olympians yet!"

"I told Ares I'd think about it," Percy was dry. "Even Triton was laughing... Said he'd challenge Ares to a duel if that would make him happy. My understanding is Ares got mad at him. Then Zeus kicked both of them out because of all the destruction they caused on Olympus during their duel. Mr. D was hoping they'd be exiled to work in camp Half Blood. Didn't happen."

Thalia began laughing. "Can't imagine Annabeth would be happy after all the hard work she put in."

"She wasn't," Percy confirmed. "But, apparently whatever the gods have involved for me has Annabeth and the huntresses involved."

"I trust my lady," Thalia was firm. "We'll know when the time is right."

"Well, the two of you are half sisters," Percy smiled somewhat. Then he sighed. "I'm about to play ambassador. We'll see how it all goes."

"Unulukuna can't deny us," Thalia pointed out. "That land _**is**_ ours."

"But Poseidon wants me to have us part on good terms," Percy was replied. "Apparently, the Olympians want to make sure that they don't anger the foreign gods."

"Makes sense," Thalia shrugged. "No need to cause any anger if it can be avoided. But you have a tendency to anger gods. Are you sure you can do this?"

Sighing, Percy shrugged. "Not sure," he admitted. "But I'm going to try."

"Okay," Thalia was cautious. "Good luck." She turned away. The unspoken words were, "You're going to need it."

Percy woke up.

(Eragon Point of View)

'Are you excited to be going to the Varden?' Eragon asked Saphira as he was curled up beside her.

Saphira considered. 'I don't know, really. So much has changed since I've hatched. I know Anuklusmos was grumbling.'

'Why?' Eragon was perplexed.

'I don't know,' Saphira admitted. 'She's rather secretive. I've spent the last few days quizzing her on what Percy's up to.'

Eragon laughed. 'Perhaps she's getting annoyed with you,' Eragon warned.

Saphira was grumbling afterwards. Eragon glanced at Anaklusmos who was curled up beside Percy. He had no doubt from his expressions that he was in deep conversation with her.

It was strange thinking that the dragon had been created. Anaklusmos was fresh from the gods where Percy came from.

At that point, Murtagh approached. He and Saphira exchanged words before Saphira made more room so that Murtagh could sit beside him. "So," he asked Eragon. "What do you think of Percy?"

Eragon considered. He was Percy's vassal, and he felt loyal. Earlier that day, he'd talked with his lord and Percy had patiently tutored him in reading. He was also very awkward sometimes in conversation.

"He seems like an ordinary person," Eragon admitted. "Except... he's not." He turned to his brother. Both were cautious to avoid saying out loud what Percy really was so that Arya didn't over hear. "What about you?"

Murtagh was considerate. He was careful with his response as well. "Most everyone in the empire... is religious," he began. He shook his head with a sigh. "I don't see Galbatorix winning this. He's not a religious man."

"But..." Eragon pushed.

Murtagh was in thought. "We know nothing about these foreign gods," he finally admitted. "I trust Percy, but I feel like things could get messy in the future. The fact that Percy is what he is... well.. that complicates things."

"You don't think gods should be respected?" Eragon asked.

"That's not what I'm saying," Murtagh shook his head. "Religion can be a powerful factor in a war. I read the history, albeit rather edited by Galbatorix's orders, of the Broddring kingdom. And that time was well before Galbatorix was even born. Sometimes... religious wars can get messy."

"What do you mean by that?" Eragon asked Murtagh.

Murtagh considered before responding. "In the pantheon of our gods, Unulukuna was supposedly challenged by Angvard for power. And, well, that power played out on earth. The priests of Unulukuna and the priests of Angvard divided the people, and the people warred as they supported their patron gods. Finally, it's said that the high priestess of Gokura stepped in in behalf of her goddess, and peace was restored to humans."

"You're worried about the same thing happening?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh wasn't direct in his answering. "When you have religion involved in wars, it's worse than political wars. You capture the faith of the people. Each person naturally supports a god in the pantheon, and they are forced to decide, will they support one god and potentially anger the god that has control over them when they die? Or, how much support and power should one god be given? Should one god be given more honor than another? If one says one god should have less power, then the supporters of that god will be angry because their god is angry. It's chaos, then, in the name of the gods."

"Then how would Percy be in charge change that, if it's the nature of gods?"

Murtagh winced. "You really support him for king?" Eragon nodded. "I do, albeit cautiously, and because I think it's his right," Murtagh admitted. "But what I'm worried about is the complication because Percy is... you know..." He trailed off, glancing at the elf. They both knew the end of the sentence anyways. Because Percy was half god. Naturally, surely, he would support his father-god more. Could that cause an imbalance, angering certain of his godly family?

"But it's because of that that he has the right to be king," Eragon recognized, whispering, lest Arya hear. "Apparently, all his gods back him. They must. They seem united, at least on this, from some of the things Percy has said."

"I agree," Murtagh was soft in his voice. " And he definitely has more of a right than Galbatorix."

Silence reigned afterwards.

Eragon went to sleep.

(Arya Point of View)

The next day, they arrived at Farthen Dur. Brom was insistent on bringing them to a certain entrance, and Percy reluctantly obliged. He went to the back.

Brom introduced Eragon as his son, a political move to warm up the dwarves to Eragon, no doubt, and remove any suspicion from him.

At first, they weren't happy when they saw Murtagh. One of the dwarves had recognized his resemblance to Morzan. It took Brom stepping in, saying, "He's my stepson," for the dwarves to back off. There seemed to be surprise since it was implied that Selena, the black hand, had been in a relationship with Brom. Arya was still getting used to it, knowing what the woman had been capable of and had done.

When the second stone door opened, they were greeted by more dwarves. Arya glanced at Percy who was expressionless. He seemed tense. None of the dwarves had looked at him yet, and he'd been ignored, only a glimpse of his elaborate gold and silver cloth clothing seen. The dwarves had yet to see him properly as there was too little room and everyone had to be rushed inside. She smiled inside. 'Maybe his card won't bear fruit afterwards.'

The dwarves, who recognized Brom, happily rushed them in. When they saw Arya, they were delighted. "We must immediately send an envoy to Queen Islanzadi that you are well!"

Arya handled everything with as much poise as she could. The elves still needed the dwarves. However, when the dwarves spotted Percy, arrayed in his gold and silver garments, they froze, eyes wide.

"Could it..." one of the dwarves said.

"I don't know," another said.

The leader unfroze himself. "Quick, get the priest!"

One of the dwarves scrambled away, and the dwarves, who were careful with Percy, motioned him in.

They waited in one of the stone rooms, talking quietly. Arya wasn't entirely sure if it was due to Murtagh or Percy. But, when the stone door opened again, a dwarf dressed in elaborate robes, though not quite as elaborate as Percy's, froze when he saw Percy. The priest's eyes were wide. "Get the king!" he demanded, and the other dwarves scrambled out.

Percy was rushed out, treated carefully, as if they were afraid that touching him might be an offense. At this point Arya was beginning to suspect that there was more going on than met the eye.

While Percy was separated from the group, silent amongst the group of dwarves surrounding him, the others were grouped together with their own dwarf guides nearby. Arya turned to Orik who was in the group, whom she knew very well as he was the king's nephew, and asked him, "Why the special treatment around Percy?"

Orik froze, as if so shocked that Arya would treat him lightly. Then he was in deep thought. "We don't know..." he muttered, not very specific.

When the white haired dwarf king came up, his attendants near him, he froze when he saw Percy. "Could it..." he murmured. "Could it be...?"

If things couldn't get any weirder, there was a sudden shimmering in the sky. Everyone knelt, and Arya, who was pulled down by Brom, watched as Percy remained standing. And yet, none were offended.

The mirage in the sky, resembling a dwarf, had a conversation with Percy in a strange language. Percy replied. After a while, the mirrage held out his hand, and Percy was levitated into the sky. They both disappeared.

The minute they were gone, murmurs of chaos broke out. "Guntera was here!" They were shouting. "Guntera was here!"

Shocked, Arya couldn't quite believe that she'd seen a god. And if she supposedly did, then why had Guntera only taken an interest in Percy, and not even his own priests?

She turned to Orik. "What's going on?" she demanded to know.

Orik was in thought. "Guntera took Percy," he responded.

"He can't be a god!" Arya was insistent.

Orik glared at her. "My people have recognized Guntera for many years! You can't tell us that our gods aren't real! You just witnessed one yourself!"

"But..." Arya was in disbelief, shock. It went against her entire elvish nature to believe in gods. Yet, she knew in the elves' distant past, back when they were superstitious, they believed in gods, just as the dwarves and humans did.

She looked back up into the sky. The conversations were flowing. Murtagh was turning to Brom. "What now?"

Brom shook his head. Arya eyed him. She was surprised that he was completely accepting of this. But he hadn't believed in gods either, being taught by the elves, at least not before they were reunited. Had he seen something that had changed his mind?

The mirage returned and Percy was levitated down. Then, a loud voice that shook the rocks spoke.

"Treat him well. It is not wise to disobey or ridicule someone who is divine for all are subject to the divine."

The mirage disappeared and Guntera was gone. The crowd knelt before Percy.

King Hrothgar, who was on his knees, gazed at Percy.

"The rightful king Alagaesia is here."

 **Please review. I thrive on reviews! It lets me know that people are interested!**


	6. Chapter 6: King Percy

**Thank you, everyone, for your continued support. You don't know what it means to me!**

 **It's inspired me to not only continue this story, but to write this chapter a bit quicker. I couldn't stop writing! The ideas were flowing!**

 **Thank you for your encouragement. It gives me the meaning to continue.**

 **I don't own Percy Jackson or Inheritance Cycle.**

 _ **An extra long chapter for all of you!**_

Chapter Six: King Percy

(Arya Point of View)

At this point the elf was totally lost. Everyone was treating Percy like royalty. But, as she learned from talking to Murtagh, he was a prince in his own right. But what Arya didn't understand was why Percy was being acknowledged and referred to as the king of Alageasia.

Orik sighed when he saw her insistence. "It's because of the prophecy," he explained. "Percy _**has**_ to be fulfillment of that ancient prophecy. There is no other explanation. Why else would Guntera recognize him, and the right he holds?"

"What prophecy?" Arya demanded.

"Come," Orik led her away from the crowd and deeper into the city. They passed rushing dwarves who were eager to get into the main hall to see Percy. Orik kept his tone down. "The dwarves have lived here for a long time. Long before the humans stepped foot here, we worshiped other gods, not the ones we worship now. A prophecy was handed to us, telling of a time when a hero from another land who would come, recognized by the gods to save us. He was to be the rightful king of Alagaesia, and was recognized by the original gods as the legitimate king. When those gods departed, and Guntera took over, the prophecy was kept with us. It said that the hero would come when we and the nations were oppressed and needed him the most. Then the gods of the old would return."

"Gods of the old?" Arya was somewhat alarmed. "Why have I never heard of this?"

"The dwarves kept it hush," Orik admitted. "Were weren't even sure the time _**had**_ come. But rumors of the prophecy began spreading again, and things started happening, just as the prophecy stated. Obviously, a king who doesn't age sits on the throne. The very attack of the ra'zak matches the description of the beasts plaguing the people of the plains in the prophecy. But, what's more, is the fact that the kings has tightened his reigns and is starving many people in Alagaesia. And there were uprisings amongst his very followers for that. That never happened before. The more people look at the prophecy, the more they see what is going on that matches what's in the prophecy."

"But that could describe any tyrant's reign," Arya pointed out.

Orik turned to her. "But none have made effort to suppress all nations before. And none have been without religion. This king has. The previous human kings were all religious. This king, just like in the prophecy, has made an effort to suppress religion in the heart of his lands, though the people still hold true to their religion. And he nearly wiped out the dragons, as prophesied. And he has the power to succeed conquering us all, unless matched by another power. And now a prince from a foreign land has come that we've never heard of before. I know you don't believe in gods, Arya, but everything is matching!"

"You don't know that he's a prince," Arya protested. She didn't want to believe Murtagh, despite Percy's elaborate and expensive apparel.

"He is," a voice confirmed, and Brom walked up to Arya. "And his father is a king."

"Just like in the prophecy," Orik confirmed. "The powerful son of a powerful king comes from a foreign land. Even the humans are aware of the prophecy."

"Are you?" Arya challenged. "I never heard about this the last time I was here."

"That's because we kept it hush last time you were here," Orik snorted and walked off. "Dwarves don't like being mocked, especially in things of sacred religion."

Arya was at loss. Even Brom seemed to be aware of things. "When did you know?" she demanded of Brom, turning away, angry and feeling betrayed.

Brom was silent for a moment. "I would hear the rumors in Carvahall," he admitted.

"Carvahall," Arya echoed closely, her tone irked. "So _**that's**_ where you've been all this time, raising your son."

"Not raising him," Brom was sad, soft as he spoke, and he walked off, knowing she needed her space.

Arya turned around, watching him go. She felt so out of touch with the world, and she had no idea how she was going to tell her people, let alone her mother, all of this. The idea of gods roaming around still seemed absurd to her. If there were gods roaming around, and she was still struggling with believing that thought, wondering if it was all one giant hoax, then why had they never intervened? Why had they allowed the dragons to be nearly wiped out to extinction?

Sighing, realizing she couldn't solve it now, she walked off.

(Percy Point of View)

In many ways, Percy knew he was changing. To an extent it terrified him. He wondered if there would come a point when he would no longer recognize himself. Was he turning into a god, despite the promise of the gods that it would be later? He still felt like he was just as powerful as before. What was happening?

He'd conversed with the majestic dwarven god Guntera. It was a place of light he was in, having been taken up by the god, and bright cities that were tall. Guntera was still tall, yet compared to the size of the Olympians when they sat on their thrones, he clearly had dwarvish dimensions, as well as dwarvish features.

Guntera had brown hair and blue eyes, and a small, tamed beard. He was strict, but fatherly to Percy, something Poseidon had never been. He saw potential in Percy and pushed him as he taught him more fighting skills, praising Percy when he got a new move right. "I expect great things from you," Guntera gruffly acknowledged him, and Percy couldn't help but feel at home. He stayed with the god for a few days.

After that, a strange man-like god had come up, blonde and as tall as the Olympians, insisting Percy come with him. Guntera, whom Percy rather liked and was getting used to, agreed and gave him up. It was the deity Unulukuna. Unulukuna took him to a place of glowing meadows, and as the scenery changed, Percy knew he was switching pantheons.

Time still appeared to be different than on the mortal surface as he was able to keep track of the mortal world. He'd discovered this with his new powers, but Percy was used to that kind of phenomenon. Still, it was strange to observe as he'd never been able to do that before now, never really able to look at another place on a whim without some god or goddess help like Iris.

He and Unulukuna talked and got to know each other better as time passed, and occasionally, Guntera inquired about him, stopping over at the massive mansion where Percy was housed.

Finally, on his tenth week with Unulukuna, he'd gotten the courage to ask. "How much do you know about the Olympians?"

Unulukuna shrugged. "Zeus and I talk. I talk to your father, to Aphrodite, to Bellona. But, we stay out of each other's internal wars."

"Do you know much about demigods?" Percy asked.

Unulukuna laughed. "I met some a long time ago, Percy. I mainly know about them. The concept of having children with mortals is just so different to the pantheons here borrowing this world. But, yes, I do know some."

Realizing he may not know, Percy decided to trudge ahead anyways and see what would happen. He looked at his hands. "I've been feeling so different lately. I don't understand it, I don't understand what's happening to me."

Unulukuna eyed him, examined him. "You're three quarters god," he confirmed. He seemed to know what Percy was thinking. Then, as confirmation, he added, "Zeus said you might struggle with that. Poseidon was concerned."

Percy gasped, almost panicked. "Three quarters! How is that possible? My mother was completely mortal!"

"But," Unulukuna was gentle. "The blessing of the gods is on you. You're to be one of us, you know."

"They promised," Percy put his hands to his head, stressed, angry, frustrated, sad. "They said it wasn't yet!"

"They promised you wouldn't be a god yet," Unulukuna corrected. "And they kept that promise. But they didn't say they wouldn't change you some. The gift of immortality is on you, just as it is on your, how do you young ones call it, girlfriend? Everyone who survived and was rewarded, those that weren't ready to be full god were given what you were just given. They merely held back with you because they knew you would struggle. And for other reasons they will reveal when the time is right. However, immortality is essential if you are to rule here."

"Why?" Percy asked. "Even with the hunters, I don't see Thalia acting this way."

"Because she's still half god, until she's ready for godhood," Unulukuna confirmed. "As are most of the demigod huntresses. But, for you, a greater amount of godly power is needed for this mission you have."

"Why?" Percy asked again. "How could a demigod be matched?"

"Not by mortals or Galbatorix," Unulukuna confirmed. "But, there still remains a deeper struggle that you have yet to learn. There are dangers you have never heard of, Percy. You needed to be more powerful, more powerful than when you had blessing from the river Styx. Or, you will not survive and complete your mission."

Uncertainty filled Percy, he chuckled a bit in nerves. "I guess I signed up for more than I realized," he retorted, turning to the god king.

Unulukuna gazed at Percy in such compassion that it startled Percy. He didn't think a god could do that. "We're gods, but different species of gods from your pantheon," Unulukuna explained. "I greatly desire to go home. I miss it, as much as I love the people here. But my own people whom **_I_** created need me. But I know these people in Alagaesia and beyond the sea will be in good hands. I've heard about you, Percy, and if anyone can unite the gods and bring change, it's you. I will help you," he promised. "You're more god like than human now, and you're young. It will be hard for you to adjust, just as much as it is for your friends. They don't tell you how they struggle. That is why they're so different now."

As Percy thought back, he realized Unulukuna was right. They did act differently and he'd never noticed.

"You're under training, Percy. Training to be a god. A major god of your pantheon, at that. You are powerful, and so when you're a god, there will be no way for you to be anything _**but**_ a major god. There is more than one reason for this quest of yours. And while I'm different from the gods of your pantheon, a different species if you will, they have entrusted your training to me, and to other gods here, both dwarvish and not. I will be your primary teacher. If you need me, my home is open to you. All you have to do is wish to come here and you will."

"Thank you," Percy was grateful. It eased his tension some. He didn't like that he was in godly training school. But he couldn't deny that Unulukuna was concerned and kind.

Unulukuna nodded to him. "I will return you to the surface. Call me and I will hear you, as well as the other deities here. You have our blessing."

A short time later, Percy found himself on the surface, as Guntera's voice rang out that Percy needed to be respected.

The chaos that surrounded him afterwards overwhelmed Percy. He hoped this wasn't what it was like to be a deity.

He was paraded on Blackjack, his dragon behind him, as the new hope to Alagaesia. Eragon and Saphira were further back. After that, Hrothgar had taken him aside and talked to him, treating him reverently. Then, it was brought to his attention that the leaders of the Varden wanted to see him. 'Great,' he thought sarcastically.

Keeping his opinion to himself, even though he knew he could have gotten out of the meeting if he wanted to the way he was being treated, he agreed to meet with them.

The Varden, he knew, was founded by Brom, and Brom would still have a major influence in all the affairs. Add to the fact that Brom had a son and step son. At the very least, Eragon would probably influence the affairs now that it was known that Brom had a son. It was probably a political move on Brom's part. thus his revelation about Eragon.

The current leader, Ajihad, was dark but handsome in complexion. A young woman, presumably his daughter Nasuada, trailed behind him. Percy kept his expression neutral as he observed him. King Hrothgar was beside him. "Will they be trouble?" he asked, keeping his tone and knowledge of the subject mysterious.

Hrothgar shrugged. "Ajihad is religious. I know Nasuada is to some extent. She is like a niece to me."

At this point Percy played his first card. Unulukuna said not to trust Nasuada, and Guntera was wary of her, warning Percy as well. "Nasuada might follow deities and obey their direct orders, but would she follow someone appointed by deities? I don't know. She might be willing to disobey a representative if it suits her. She'll pray to gods whenever she needs their help, but other than that, she seems to reject the council of the gods and especially their representatives. It would take a deity directly telling her to do something to obey. Ajihad will be more likely to obey, though, out of respect to the people who are religious and out of respect to the old customs. He's less likely to take risks with gods."

Hrothgar looked at him in surprise. "I never would have supposed," he said, as if he didn't know what to think, or if the advice was even good. "I've never heard Nasuada say one thing or another. I only know that she prays."

'In a way it's good,' Percy thought, taking a break from the subject. 'That apart from the elves there are fewer atheists. Still, though, Nasuada might pose a problem in the future since she might view me as a mere human. I get the feeling that in order to get her to cooperate with deities, she'd have hear it directly from them as opposed to a representative of the deities. And the gods seem to imply this much to me.'

He'd have to keep an eye on Nasuada, especially since he was keeping his demigodly status secret. The dwarves knew he was different from humans, but they didn't know exactly how. Also, the gods kept warning him about Nasuada constantly, saying that she was dangerous, and not to trust her, warning him if she ever came to power. He would have to make sure that he ensured her cooperation, one way or another, especially for the Olympians' sakes.

They met in a closed room with the Varden's leaders, and with the leaders of the dwarves, Percy near the head of the table with Hrothgar and Ajihad, as he was viewed as a leader of sorts. Brom was next to him. Both Eragon and Nasuada, though children of leaders, weren't allowed in. Apparently, as Percy's dragon was older, most considered him the new leader of the riders as well, a position Percy neither accepted nor denied holding, a political gamble for him which he could tell frustrated Arya, who was by Brom. The elf wanted him to declare one way or another, probably so that she could figure out how to oppose him. Since Percy didn't do that, it put her in a frustrated gamble.

Ajihad was watching him closely. "I've heard of the prophecy," he finally admitted. "My people carried such a story of with us from across the seas, though it's mainly lost among humans. However, it appears to have been preserved by the dwarves as well. That's how it came back to us. When the rumors started, I dug out the old prophecy originating from us humans and started reading it, a rare copy of it. It's strikingly... _**similar**_... to the dwarvish prophecy. I didn't believe in the prophecy at first. It was mere curiosity. But now, I'm starting to wonder."

"And what about Nasuada?" Percy asked. He doubted, since Brom was alive, and he was the original founder, that Nasuada would be able to inherit the Varden (at least he hoped). At least, not without opposition and grumbling, since many would have looked to Brom next, should the time come. And yet most would have opposed since they thought he didn't believe in gods, and this was a time of renewed religious devotion.

He'd been subtly trying to persuade Brom to make sure he was second in command again. To his surprise, Arya seemed to be trying to do the same thing, not realizing that she and he were trying to accomplish the same goal. So, he let her. It was one less thing for him to worry about. And, she was unknowingly doing work for him.

He suspected it was because she hoped the elves would have further influence in the Varden thenm especially with the way things were religiously going. But, since it was known that Brom was taught by the elves and was atheist, the humans might be more wary of him in this time of renewed religious devotion, especially since they hadn't seen the new Brom 2.0 that believed in gods, or at least the Olympians. So, it might be harder, since Percy was a religious figure, to maneuver Brom into the position of second in command. Perhaps Arya thought that she could still have influence on Brom.

But, by implying that Nasuada was heir, Percy was hopeful to gain more intel into this mysterious woman and further his goals. He found it needful due to the warnings about her. He'd also been continually cautioned about her potential should she be leader by Unulukuna. The god had said she was dangerous, especially if she attained power. It would also force Ajihad's hand, as people wouldn't want a heretical leader.

Percy continued, "She succeeds should something happen, right?" He knew that wasn't entirely true and that the process was more complicated, but by putting her out there in this manner, he might be able to maneuver more favor for Brom. Brom had opened his mouth almost to say it was more complicated, but Percy beat him to it. "What's her take on the prophecy?"

Ajihad smiled softly, knowing he was cornered. "My daughter isn't one for prophecies. She believes we make our own prophecies." He tried to frame it as innocently as possible, but even he would know that it wouldn't go down well with the crowd. And with magicians in the room, watching the proceedings carefully, the room charmed to force the truth (though Percy knew with his power and divine descent it wouldn't have an affect on him, and they didn't need to know that), Ajihad was trapped.

Hrothgar appeared disturbed, the truth now out. While Hrothgar had been more willing to consider what Percy had to say about Nasuada before, because of his position, due to his close relationship to the Varden leader and his daughter, it had been a hard concept for him to grasp. Now he had to face the hard truth. And, from the expression on his face, Percy could tell that Hrothgar felt betrayed, feeling as if he had known Ajihad and Nasuada so well, but not so sure now.

Now the crowd, both Varden and dwarves were murmuring. This hadn't been publicly known as Nasuada and her father had been good about keeping it under wraps. Before it might not have mattered as much, but now that prophecies, faith, and religion were on the table, it might put her in a difficult, if not disadvantaged position, should she be shown to be defiant towards gods. Previous, everyone had known she prayed. However, some of her private beliefs, which she kept silent, that others might not approve of, had not been widely known until now. Percy had just exposed it.

"Does she?" Percy replied back. He'd gotten what he wanted. He'd confirmed that religion could be a uniting factor that won him the lottery. And he'd positioned his hand carefully the way he wanted. Either way he would get what he wanted. Unless Nasuada proved obedience to the gods, then she could be disenfranchised, which Ajihad wouldn't want.

He knew how Ajihad would react, as any father would react. He would try to secure her position in the Varden, even as his successor, rather than see it go somewhere else, even to the founder Brom. At the same time, it put more favor towards Brom even though he was viewed as atheist, because at least he wasn't in direct defiance of the gods.

But, it would be dangerous for Ajihad to side with someone whose very beliefs might be to challenge the gods when it suited them, and which might be considered heretical for humans, dwarves, and others. It was one thing for Percy, who was half god, or rather now three quarters god to do it. After all, he was a mediator between the gods and the humans, and was divine and thus over humans. It was another thing for someone who had no divinity and was subject to divinity to do it.

Percy continued to play his cards further. Either way, he would be able to back Ajihad in a corner, even if he didn't get every detail of what he ideally wanted, which was Brom as the successor. And that would be useful to him as Eragon would be Brom's successor, and thus have more power in the Varden. And Eragon was Percy's vassal, which wasn't known. Eragon would have to do what Percy said, and Brom wouldn't want his son to be put in a competing position with Percy, even though he wasn't aware that his son was Percy's vassal. All he knew was that Eragon and Percy were close, and that Eragon would follow Percy wherever he went.

And, Arya would be competing for the same as she wouldn't realize Eragon was Percy's vassal, and still thought she could have influence over Brom.

For once, as annoyed as Percy was for Eragon doing that to him, he was glad that Eragon had become his vassal. It was making this much easier. Was that why the gods had allowed it?

Either Ajihad would have to side with Percy, since his people were religious and demanded it, even if it meant sidelining his daughter as an heir, or he would have to make sure she complied in order to inherit, even requiring her obedience to Percy through vow and vassalage when she was ruler of the Varden, and to obey Percy always since he was a representative of the gods. But, in doing so, either way, Percy would have the cooperation of the Varden even if Ajihad was to go, whether it was through Nasuada, or through someone else who would take over.

'Gosh, when did I become this way?' Percy thought. But, he continued forward. It was needful to fulfill his promise to the gods. "Then why pray to the gods? 'Guide my father, Unulukuna, and teach him the path that the Varden shall take?'", he quoted the prayer that Unulukuna had received as she and her father had prayed to the human god. Unulukuna had shared this with Percy so he could give it as proof if needed.

Ajihad was shocked. "No one was around to hear that prayer!" he gasped. It took him a moment to compose himself. "You _**must**_ be a representative of the gods. You wouldn't have known otherwise. To answer you she believes that the gods leave us alone for the most part, and that we must make our own way. She also believes that it's sometimes needful to defy the gods, for the good of everyone. She's hopeful, though, that we can still attain the blessings of the gods, at least if we appease them. She believes they'll help if we pray."

"Seems a bit... heretical," Percy played another card carefully. He knew that both Eragon, Nasuada, and Murtagh were listening in, having bribed the guards to get close. He was wondering how Nasuada was reacting internally to all this, having her faith and religious devotion, and perhaps her future, examined and discussed, and perhaps torn apart as it was dissected.

Careful, Ajihad replied, "I cannot answer for her faith. She must answer directly to the gods for her beliefs and actions, whether heretical or not."

There was one final card Percy wanted to play that he knew would either secure Ajihad to him, or would ensure he was removed as leader of the Varden. "And do you believe that someone who is representing the gods should be allowed to be defied and disobeyed by anyone?"

Ajihad couldn't answer. Percy couldn't trust him, with the way his daughter was. He needed to know that Ajihad wouldn't go behind his back for his daughter.

Ajihad was opening and closing his mouth, not sure what to say. Either he condemned both himself and his daughter, thus loosing his position, or he ensured that he would support the gods, even if it meant heartrendingly disciplining and punishing his daughter if she disobeyed. What he answered would either make or break his leadership.

'She cannot be trusted,' Guntera said in Percy's mind as Percy felt somewhat guilty for doing this. 'If Nasuada is leader, she will oppress magicians and many people. She is afraid. She can't be trusted.'

Ajihad hardened his face. His answer was a careful political statement.

"I would obey the will of the gods, even expressed through one of their servants, even if it means sending my daughter to the noose."

Percy had gotten what he'd wanted.

(Ajihad Point of View)

Ajihad was pacing in his quarters, somber. The prophecy, one that he'd dreaded and feared to believe, was coming true. Mainly, he was afraid because he knew his daughter's religious dispositions, which would put her at odds with even the wandering tribes. He and she had carefully covered it up and kept it under wraps, but it had been exposed in one single session by Percy.

'There is no other explanation,' he thought. 'He _**truly**_ must be a representative of the gods. No one else would know the things that he knows.'

Ajihad was loyal to the gods and their will. But he also struggled with his daughter's faith, something they'd privately struggled with for years. He couldn't stand to see her disobedient to the gods, and yet, he knew that she cared about the Varden. That was why she did it, even if it didn't excuse her actions.

And it sorrowed him. How could a father not be sorrowed when his child took such actions? But, he had to be loyal to the gods. He would have to be careful, more than ever, to make sure that his daughter didn't go astray. He didn't want to have to do anything drastic to her, or punish her. For her own good, he **_had_** to make sure she cooperated, regardless of her convictions.

But what to do?

For a moment, he considered making Brom his heir. The man was wise and had founded the Varden, and technically had more claim and more right to the leadership of the Varden than him or his daughter. Moreover, as an atheist, he couldn't commit heresy, even if people didn't like his appointment because he lacked religion. Such a position would keep Nasuada out of the spotlight, and perhaps safer. If she was not the heir, then perhaps she could live her religious convictions, no matter how heretical, in quiet. At least it might avoid making her a major target.

Could he do that to his daughter and only child, though? It didn't seem quite fair.

Ajihad was torn. He was torn between following his religion, and allowing his daughter to continue in her ways. He knew the members of the Varden, who were religious, and weren't taking this new news well as the news had gotten out, wouldn't want as a leader someone who defied the gods or the gods' representative on religious grounds. A heretical leader wouldn't do.

And so, Ajihad was toeing a fine line, not wanting to be considered heretical himself, especially since his views were orthodox.

But, what to do about his daughter?

A knock on the door of his grandly ornate room came. "Father?" A voice came, Nasuada. "May I come in?"

Ajihad put on a brave face. "Yes," he said.

His daughter, dressed in a velvet dress, came in, her black hair tied up. She was putting on a brave face. No doubt, the rumors had reached her.

Both father and daughter sat on the bed, in silence. "You heard?" he asked.

Nasuada nodded. "I was listening in the conversation the whole time," she admitted.

"This is a dangerous position we are in," Ajihad warned her. "I had told you before, obedience to the gods must always come, but you would not hear me. The gods are taking a reckoning. This is a warning from them. This is their sign to you."

"Would you see the Varden fail?" Nasuada's voice was sharp.

"What would you have me do?" Ajihad mourned, getting up and pacing. "I desire nothing to happen to you! You're my daughter! You're putting me in an impossible position!"

"Where were the gods before?" Nasuada asked. "They helped the enemy just as much. I know that final judgment will come from them in the end, and we are to stand before them, but what about this life? We are still living it!"

"You're views of the gods are very unorthodox!" Ajihad put his hand to his chin, frustrated. "Like your mother."

"Well, maybe mother was right!" Nasuada explained. "If we cannot do for ourselves, then what do we do?"

Sighing, Ajihad calmed down and went to sit beside her. "This isn't going down well with the people. We managed to keep this quiet for years. But, now that they know what you're real views are, it's not making them very comfortable. They're fearful you're defiant."

"I don't believe in prophecies," Nasuada finally said. "The gods interfere if asked and appeased, but what about when mortals can't ask, and aren't in a position to? When action and battle are happening? You can't stop to pray!" She paused, almost heartbroken. "Where were they for mother?"

Sadness crossed Ajihad. But his features became strict. "I will hear nothing more of it!" he demanded. "You must learn obedience to the gods. They **_do_** guide our lives! They sent us Percy! And I will have obedience, or you will have no place in the Varden. I can't have an heir who is defiant."

Nasuada's mouth was open in shock. "You wouldn't really exile me from the Varden, would you father?"

Ajihad closed his eyes in pain.

"It's better than the alternative."

(Arya Point of View)

The events had been greatly surprising. She'd never known the things she'd learned about Percy. Moreover, Brom was right: Percy did have clout, and a lot of it. She couldn't think of anyone else who would have been able to do that and who would have been able to upend both the leader and heir of the Varden in a single swoop, and in a single session. Percy was more powerful than he seemed.

That the potential heir to the Varden had suddenly fallen into such disfavor with the people meant that Ajihad was going to have to act soon. Either he was going to have to try to reconcile his daughter to the Varden and ensure that her actions would be in compliance with their supposed gods (Arya was beginning to wonder if they really did exist, given what she was witnessing), or he was going to have to find another heir.

At first, Arya suspected that Percy was competing for position of the heir, or more likely Varden leadership. She was down right surprised when Ajihad expressed that Percy take the leadership and even more surprised when Percy immediately turned down taking leadership of the Varden and closed the subject, refusing to hear it again. She was beginning to realize that she didn't really know Percy after all.

Brom was the next consideration, though Percy frowned with dislike. But, he none the less, gave his permission, though it seemed reluctant. It was probably due to Brom's atheistic view. For some reason, which Arya couldn't comprehend, an atheist was preferable to a heretic, whatever that was. "Is there someone else more preferable?" Trianna, who was there with the twins as a representative of Du Vrangr Gata asked.

Percy shook his head. "As long as the gods are appeased, I am appeased. I don't really care, as long as the gods are followed." But, he didn't seem happy about it, even though he could have demanded anything he wanted and gotten it at this point. That said, he and the others seemed to prefer the atheist Brom over the heretical Nasuada.

Arya thought he was skilled at playing his cards carefully, as she didn't quite trust him yet. Then again, there weren't really any good alternatives yet, as any other option would have caused contention and split the Varden, especially since Percy didn't want to be leader, even though the Varden would have been perfectly united under him. Why Percy seemed to have a disdain for being leader, Arya didn't know. His personality and actions didn't fit someone who desired power. So, what did he want?

With this, Brom became the tentative heir until Nasuada's fate could be decided. Secretly, Arya preferred this, as Brom was a former dragon rider, and was trained by the elves. He would be more trustworthy than a pure human through all of this, untainted by religion. That said, she was sad to see Nasuada disenfranchised by her own people.

Throughout this time, Arya noticed that Percy was intentionally trying to stay out of Varden politics, finding it distasteful. He didn't mind joining the dwarves on their political issues, though, and would eagerly meet with the dwarven priests.

Arya corned him some time later then. "Why not become leader of the Varden?" she asked, desperately trying to figure him out and his motives.

Percy grimaced. "Why should I?" The subject seemed distasteful to him.

Frowning, she watched Percy walk off, ornately adorned in his native, royal clothing. She was confused and puzzled over him.

Some time later, Arya found Nasuada sharpening an arrow shaft in the place where the Varden's weapons were kept. She sat down beside her. "Finished with the range?" she asked, keeping her tone polite.

Nasuada nodded, deep in thought. "I was there alone. I like to think alone."

"About everything that is happening?" Arya tried to get some information, though she positioned her voice in a friendly manner.

Nodding again, Nasuada added, "And my unsure position here. I grew up here, you know."

"Because of the religious tension," Arya replied, coming to immediate conclusion.

At that point, Arya could tell something had hit Nasuada. "Is challenging the gods for justice such a bad thing?" Nasuada asked.

"They're afraid of you," Arya observed. That much she could tell of the Varden, though she didn't see fear in Percy. "I've interacted a long time with humans, and yet I've never really tried to learn about religion until now. I didn't realize what a powerful force in decisions it could be, even to disenfranchise one's daughter."

"He has to," Nasuada defended him. "I admit freely that my beliefs are unorthodox, even heretical. I admit freely that magic should be controlled."

"Percy doesn't like the thought of magic being controlled. People now seem to think that the gods don't approve of it, all because of Percy's convictions. And it's created a dislike of it."

Sighing, Nasuada put the arrow in the quiver. "There are many things I would ask the gods, given the chance."

As Arya observed Nasuada, she was struck with wonder. 'Why do these people believe that it's dangerous to disobey the gods?' she thought. 'Why are they so willing to obey the gods without challenge?' She realized that whether or not she liked it, she was going to have to investigate religion further. It was a driver of these peoples that the elves had underestimated, perhaps a dangerous driver. She needed to know what they were up against.

"Why?" Arya asked. "Why do they follow without question?"

"A matter of authority," Nasuada explained. "In the end, it's believed that the gods are the real rulers. The gods are supposed to be obeyed at all costs. They govern our souls in the end, and what happens to us. The grant us life and everything that we have, and can take it away, or so most believe. To disobey is treason. Disaster happens when one disobeys the gods. If they're displeased, disasters happen. Ultimately, a person's authority as king or queen is only valid if the gods back them. Defiance towards the gods will put the entire people in jeopardy, or so the people believe. Thus, it must be punished, for everyone's saftey. The entire people depend on it."

"An interesting way to look at things," Arya was sarcastic.

"The people want the blessing of the gods," Nasuada continued. "Moreover, it's absolutely **_vital_** for war, or so _**they**_ believe. So they will do what they can to appease them. Someone who challenges the standard faith, well, poses a problem. They may displease the gods and incur wrath on everybody, just as Galbatorix has done. And you see how the people have suffered for that, how the gods have punished us all for that. If the majority of people realize the Galbatorix has displease the gods and that he _**hasn't**_ been placed there by the gods, as he uses our religion to make people believe despite his disbelief in gods, then his rule is done. He **_has_** to use our religion in order to maintain control over us, and few have realized how atheist he really is, and how heretical. Everyone will oppose him once they know the truth. That's why he suppresses and kills people who find out, and why he wants the Varden gone, because they know the truth about who he really is, and how he uses our religion as a heretic. Therefore, someone heretical and unorthodox would prove to be the undoing of the Varden, even if they win the war. It's vital, in the people's eyes, to have the gods on their side. The gods set the moral standard."

"But you believe you can do it without the gods," Arya observed. And she was admirable for that. "And, as an atheist, he's heretical?"

Nasuada shook her head. "He was taught from a young age, before the elves got to him. He's a believer, a heretic, not an atheist."

Arya was confused at this point. She'd never known Galbatorix to be a believer in religion, nor had the elves. Nasuada must have made presumptions, for she replied, "We have records of proof of his religious devotions and beliefs. He originally used religion as the uniting factor to solidify his reign, not atheism."

"We know," Arya replied. "My people have records of that as well. But that doesn't mean he's religious at heart. He was merely using it to decrease resistance to him."

Nasuada shook her head. "You don't understand. He wasn't necessarily faking in everything. He... wasn't like Brom. Never mind."

At this point Arya, despite her confusion, didn't push the religious subject any further. And so, she waited for Nasuada to continue.

"And thus, to them, I risk angering the gods," she whispered. "To some, I border on blaspheme to the gods, which in any of our cultures, could be my life, as it poses a risk to the general welfare of the people. I've had to be careful over the years of my beliefs and how I word things. Even if my father believes that I've blasphemed, it could put my life in danger, though he may be more inclined to exile me than deal with me harsher like an ordinary person, and hopes that that would be enough to appease the gods."

"Blaspheme is worse?" Arya asked.

Nasuada frowned. "Blaspheme is a form of heresy, but it's far worse than ordinary heresy. That's why it's punishable by death, because the people believe it puts society at risk, and is a downright challenge to the gods. Thus, the people must appease the gods with the life of the person to turn away their wrath."

"Ah," was Arya's response, somewhat tired of the discussion that she didn't understand. "The elves had always wondered why sometimes humans executed someone for religious reasons. This conversation has been very informative."

She left her, after that, in deep thought. This could greatly shift the elves' relation with the dwarves, humans, and urgals, complicating it. Most elves would not understand. But for one, she was beginning to understand something about human culture that elves had not understood before and had chosen not to understand.

It also explained why, a few hundred years ago, some humans had tried to kill an elvish ambassador for blaspheme and heresy, and would not have the elf (who had escaped due to magic), back as an ambassador. The elves had been offended and puzzled. They'd never considered that the humans had been offended and puzzled. It had nearly started a war. To appease the "superstitious humans", the elves had appointed a new ambassador, and disaster had been averted. Although, the elves had grumbled about it, and about the humans.

It was definitely time to reconsider things, especially since religion appeared to be far more powerful than the elves anticipated. Their approach to the humans and dwarves would have to be rethought. And, perhaps, they should explore the old elvish religions to gain a better understanding.

Clearly, since Arya had not been targeted for killing, though they were offended at her disbelief in gods, she had not committed heresy or blaspheme. Since that was the case, Arya didn't entirely understand what blaspheme and heresy was. She'd thought she'd understood earlier, but if simple disbelief was it, then Arya would have been subject to be targeted as well, like the one elvish ambassador was. That meant that she didn't fully grasp what heresy and blasphemy were.

For the first time, Arya found that she was going to have to humble herself and ask for help before a dwarvish priest, as embarrassing as it was. As she approached the dwarvish temple, she was met by Gannel. He seemed surprised. "What brings you here, Arya?" But there was an undertone of mockery, perhaps.

Biting her pride, Arya replied, "I've come to learn a bit more about religion than I'm used to."

"Hmm," and Gannel didn't seem very happy about it.

Arya was blunt. "What is blaspheme? And what about heresy?"

Gannel was wary. "I'm not sure I should answer," he replied. "You're ignorance, elf, at this moment protects you. Best not to delve in, since you don't believe in gods."

"If my ignorance keeps me safe, then why would humans accuse an elf a few hundred years of blaspheme?" Arya was sharp.

Nodding, a little sigh escaping him, Gannel led her through the streets, bringing her to the dwarvish library. "That's an entirely different circumstance from yours, Arya. You have not yet come to belief."

"And he did?" Arya was sharp. "An elf, believe?"

"He... was exposed to religious texts. Had... taken vows. That is what humans recorded. And, for all intents and purposes, yes, this stated his belief. Though, now I suspect he did it more for research purposes and less for actual devotion, a big mistake. Perhaps you should not follow in his footsteps and enter too deeply into religion since elves are less prone to religion. You wouldn't want to become like him."

He got on a high shelf and brought one of the religious books of the dwarves down. "One of our religious texts!" he proudly proclaimed. Then his tone became serious. "If you go down this route, Arya, you're no longer innocent. You can't sit on the border. The gods will not hold you guiltless."

"I just want an answer," Arya was exasperated.

"You want an answer for your analytical mind, but not for your soul," Gannel cautioned. "There is no border. Once you are exposed to the truth, Arya, if you reject it, you cast your soul in worse light than before your ignorance."

With that, Gannel left her.

Frustrated, for not getting a direct answer, Arya began to open the dwarvish religious book and began to read.

(Eragon Point of View)

Eragon and Murtagh were starting to take religion more seriously now, and were studying up on the human gods. While most humans had been religious, Murtagh, who was carefully schooled by orders of Galbatorix, was taught not to believe in religion, even though his tutors believed, he knew. But both were now coming to terms with the existence of the gods.

Eragon, who had a greater understanding, due to being taught about the gods and having been entered into the religious ceremonies at a young age by his uncle, though they were not as serious as others, had had to school Murtagh on some of the passages some, as Murtagh didn't quite understand. While Eragon's uncle hadn't necessarily kept up their religious education despite the fact that he was supposed to, he not being as religious, he'd only put Eragon and Roran through the basic religious rites necessary for their souls.

None the less Eragon was vaguely aware of his distant connection to religion, and that he had been made a disciple of sorts in some ceremony he was young enough that he didn't really remember much of. Thus, he hadn't been much of a believer in the gods, and he hadn't gone through any of the further religious rites he was supposed to, in order to truly become completely part of the religion. He was considered halfway in between.

It was as they were in the dwarvish library, (Murtagh had read most of the religious texts they'd found to Eragon as he was still learning to read), that they found a deeper fellowship of brotherhood. Eragon, though he hadn't been sure of religion when he was younger, had grown up with it, knowing about it. Roran and his uncle had always been concerned about his soul, even if his uncle hadn't been too serious. Because of this, he understood the text on a far deeper level than Murtagh and was able to explain things. Murtagh, on the other hand, was actually able to read the text, and taught Eragon more reading as well.

When they were done, they were met with another surprise, Arya was in the library as well, engrossed in a religious text.

"I never thought I'd see an elf reading something religious." Murtagh announced their presence, and Arya glanced back at them. "I thought elves didn't believe in gods?"

"It's a very big part of the society of other cultures, so I knew I needed to catch up," Arya replied, continuing to read.

But, Eragon thought he saw something in her, and apparently so did Murtagh. "Or so it seems," Murtagh challenged.

Arya snorted but continued reading. Pulling his brother away, Eragon made them leave. "Come on, Murtagh."

Arya was still reading.

(Arya Point of View)

As she continued to her quarters, she deeply considered the text that she read. While she was still confused on a big level, she was beginning to understand.

Elves had never studied religious texts before as they didn't see a need to. But now, Arya was beginning to wonder why they'd abandoned their old religions after all. She knew that the religious texts contained stories that the elves dismissed as superstition, but she was surprised to see that these religious texts, even from the human and urgal texts that she'd read, all had contained a moral code that was greatly revered by the readers.

That had been surprised. What was more, she hadn't expected to see mercy and compassion in the texts of the urgal religions, as they were a deeply warring culture. And yet, the story about two of their gods urging an urgal conqueror to show mercy on those they had warred with was... somewhat touching.

One text kept popping into her mind. It was a text from one of the human gods. 'The seasons and mercy cometh of the gods. Defense is of the gods and comes through humility to the divine. When in harmony with the gods, all things shall flow, and the humans and creation shall be blessed, and the enemy shall stagger under your hands.'

It then continued in the next verse, 'What man there is that takes a wife and regards her not but shall beat her and neglect her hath offended the gods. Her complaint shall be heard. He shall be exiled and the community shall give his wife his property as payment. And if his wife shall die due to his negligence, he shall be taken and put to death, that the gods see not the offense any longer.'

'So,' Arya thought upon contemplating the text. 'The gods are viewed as a champion for the innocent, and for those that have been wronged.' It was something that was unexpected to her. 'Perhaps that is why the common person can connect to it so well.'

The issue of blaspheme still had not come up yet, but she hadn't made it very far. There were a great many texts available. But, heresy had been hinted at, though never explained. It had always seemed to condemn it as a heinous crime, though. Why, Arya didn't understand, and she didn't understand the nature of what heresy actually was, let alone blaspheme.

'All interesting,' Arya thought. She thought back on Gannel's warning about no longer being innocent once she learned religion. But, she couldn't help it. It was a fascinating piece of human, dwarvish, and urgal culture, and once upon a time, their own.

She would have to go back to read more.

(Percy Point of View)

In the end, Ajihad had proposed a solution to the Varden. Would they accept his daughter back if she pledged her life to the will of the gods? The answer caused much debate among the Varden. Nothing was decided yet, as a result. Meanwhile, Percy had stayed carefully out of it.

Already, the dwarves supported him fully. He was confident the urgals would. The people of the Varden supported him fully, though certain members of the leadership, such as Ajihad, were iffy.

But Percy held the majority, most looking at him as the spokesman of the gods, including and especially of those where he was from. And he still had yet to play his card as demigod, keeping that to himself at the moment.

Fortunately, those that knew stayed silent about it. They probably knew he wouldn't have liked it if they'd said something.

So far, it was good. With the people supporting them, he knew he could lead victory against Galbatorix. And, given time, they would turn to the Olympians officially, he was sure. That left him the elvish problem.

The Olympians wouldn't like it if the elves were as obstinate as ever. But, how to ensure they transitioned into supporters of the Olympians?

Arya. That was the answer, Percy was sure. She had spent a lot of time among humans, and he'd noticed a new interest in religion that she was pursuing lately, probably trying to figure the whole mess out.

If Brom could be convinced, then the elves could be convinced, he was sure. It was only a matter of convincing the Olympians to do as he said, something he wasn't sure he could do.

Sighing, he thought long and hard. There were rumors going on about a potential attack on the Varden. It would be his chance to shine. But, if the shade was in charge, like he suspected, then he was going to need to find a way to corner the shade and question him.

Both Unulukuna and Guntera had hinted that Durza had come across something he needed to know, something dangerous. What it was, he didn't know, and that irked him.

Standing, getting ready to meet with the dwarves, Percy headed out of his quarters.

(Eragon Point of View)

He had just gotten done sparring with his brother when a familiar figure popped up. It was the old herbalist Angela. She was wearing a long dress with odd flower prints on it. As he was sitting on a stack of hay, shining a blade that had been given to him, Angela sat beside him.

"You seem to have had quite the adventure lately."

Eragon looked up. Unlike Morzan's blade, which Brom had returned to Murtagh as gesture of good faith to his stepson, Eragon's blade required maintenance. Brom had been teaching him how, and had ordered a fine blade for him to be made by the Varden blacksmiths. It had barely gotten done, and since then Brom had been teaching him how to upkeep the sword.

"It's not a rider's blade," Eragon motioned to his sword, "But it's the finest the Varden has to offer. They couldn't resist telling no to Brom since he founded the Varden, and they said it was an honor to make not only a blade for the son of Brom, but for a dragon rider."

Angela didn't seem to take offense that he'd changed the subject. "You seem to be adjusting well to everything. Brom seems to think you were a bit too sheltered by your uncle."

Tilting his head, Eragon replied, "I think Murtagh is having a harder time adjusting than me. The Varden are wary of him, but since both Percy and Brom are backing him, they're not going to do anything. They're watching him, though."

"The fact that Percy and Brom stood up for him means a lot of faith and trust is being put in him," Angela agreed.

At this point, Eragon changed the subject. "What did Percy mean that you're a Priestess of Apollo?"

Angela frowned. "Apollo is one of the old gods, a god of prophecy, if you will. The oracle is typically high priestess of Apollo, but as a priestess, I do have gifts, just not on the level of the oracle." She motioned with her hands across the range, which had several targets. "Like his sister, Artemis, Apollo is one for archery. Anciently, here in Alagaesia, the priestesses of Artemis and the priests and priestesses of Apollo would gather to compete in the favor of the gods. I was young when it happened, and that was the first and last time I witnessed the events. It was in the old world, but I know that competitions took place here to."

"Old world?" Eragon asked.

"The continent the humans came from. That was back before the gods loaned the worlds to Unulukuna, and the gods that reside here now."

Silence reigned. "Do you miss it?" Eragon asked.

Angela shrugged. "Apollo blessed me to witness the return of the gods. What happens after that, I don't know. I serve them, and am still a priestess to Apollo, in fact the only priestess, let alone priest, that serves any of the old gods. The others died, but I was permitted to wander until the time came. Apollo reserved me for this time, to bring back the return of the Olympians."

Eragon considered this. "You're a priestess," he murmured, "But why not a high priestess?"

"Because there is only one oracle at a time," Angela explained. "And the oracle typically resides on another world. But, beneath the high priestess, when the oracle was not around or permitted to wander this world, there was a grande priestess, or a grande priest that served under the high priestess, presiding here. The last to hold that position was a woman, or grande priestess."

"You not grande priestess?" Eragon was surprised.

Angela shook her head. "I was young, and just barely beginning my service to the gods when the Olympians announced they were leaving. I'm technically still a priestess in training as I never finished my training. Afterwords, the gods took the grande priestess away, and many departed to another world. Where, I don't know. But, only a few were permitted to stay. It was part of the agreement with Unulukuna and the other gods.

"Only a few elderly priestesses stayed, and they died before they could complete my training as they were not given the longevity I was. I highly suspect they were allowed to stay so that they could take my training further, even though they knew they wouldn't be able to finish my training. Due to the fact that I'd asked a favor of Apollo, and he granted my request, I was left alone, the only priestess of the old gods left. No priests of the old gods were left. I was left to keep the torch of the Olympians burning."

"So, you're not technically a priestess then?" Eragon was confused.

"No, I am," Angela confirmed. "The moment you are officially taken into the service of the gods, you are a priest or priestess, as you are blessed by the gods to be such. But you still have to learn how to use the gifts you are given, and how to serve the gods. That was where I didn't complete everything. I had to learn much on my own. Even then, I didn't learn everything by myself, since I couldn't. I still haven't learned everything I was supposed to."

Nodding, Eragon thought he understood. "Sounds like a lonely life," he commented.

Angela shrugged. Getting up, she turned to him. "You will find that more will happen in the future that you may not be prepared for. Stay close to Percy, and you will survive."

With that, Angela left.

Eragon contemplated Angela's words.

(Percy Point of View)

He was dreaming, and Triton was before him. They were in the ocean above Poseidon's palace. He'd just gotten through talking to his father and Queen Amphitrite, but now Triton was left alone with him.

Percy looked him over. "I'm surprised Zeus didn't punish you more than he did."

Triton laughed, knowing what he was referring to, amused. "I do know how to get on my cousins' nerves when needed."

"My fianceé is upset," Percy dead faced. But he filed away Triton's statement, finding it interesting... and perhaps useful for when he was a god. 'Really? Am I really considering godhood?' Percy thought, surprised by his own thoughts.

Triton was immediately serious. "Yes... well..." he scratched his head, not knowing how to respond.

Suddenly, Percy burst out laughing, and they both laughed together. "Man, I'm surprised that Ares hasn't sought revenge yet. How did you get out of working at Camp Half Blood?"

Triton snickered. "By putting all the blame on Ares. I proved he started it."

"But, Ares didn't even get punished."

"Yeah, well, one time offense, one time warning."

Both snickered more, somewhat amused. But, as Poseidon approached again, swimming up to them from the palace beneath, trident in hand, both sobered up. "I hope this isn't about the destruction Triton caused on Olympus," Poseidon warned.

"No, why would it be, father?" Triton feigned innocence.

Poseidon sighed and then swam back doing, going into his palace. When he was gone, both boys broke out snickering again.

"All right," Triton said, towing Percy away to another part of the ocean with his powers. "We don't want to get caught, do we?"

"I think dad secretly supports you," Percy said.

Triton shook his head. "He hates Olympian politics, though."

"Thank goodness you weren't confined to Camp Half Blood. I don't think you would have liked it," Percy contemplated.

Triton, who was in his merman form, nodded. "Then there's that."

Both swam together for a little while, and even though Percy knew he was asleep, it felt so real.

Triton was thoughtful. "I got your message. I know you might not want to hear this, but I'm not sure the gods should reveal themselves just now. There was a reason we sent you in first. Percy, be careful. There's something far more dangerous than Galbatorix there."

"What is it?" Percy asked. He'd received hints like this multiple times. "And why does this change you coming over?"

Triton frowned. "If the Olympians come over now, it will awaken. Right now, the gods inhabiting that world are so foreign that it doesn't even register them. It would be far easier to kill while asleep. In fact, a demigod might stand a better chance. But, if it does awaken, which is possible with a demigod or legacy, but not as likely, the whole world will be in trouble."

"Some sort of monster?" Percy speculated.

Triton turned to him, worried. "Worse."

At this point, Percy was immediately cautious. "What is it?" he asked again.

Triton hesitated. "A god," he finally admitted. "Or rather, a titan. It was left there, and that is why it's not even in Greek mythology. But we remember it. We remember _**her**_."

Instantly, Percy was cautious, remembering his run in with Titans. "And how does she fit into the family?"

"She's a daughter of Gaea."

"Great," Percy grumbled, understanding. "And so, she's asleep, and has remained asleep because she must recognize Olympian blood."

"Exactly," Triton confirmed. "She existed before demigods were even around. She knows nothing about them. But she may still sense the Olympian on you, especially since your three quarters god now, so be careful. We had no choice but to make you more powerful, though, to combat her. It was a risk, but a calculated risk we took."

Percy grimaced when he heard this, the topic still sore. It was done without his permission.

Triton seemed to pick up on this. "We did it for your safety," he reassured his brother. "Otherwise, you might lose. Right now, you don't have a whole army to back you, and even then, unless there's a three quarters god in the army, then the army may not stand a chance."

"That's why you changed the victors of the giant war to three quarter gods?" Percy was miffed.

Triton nodded. "Exactly." Then, he continued the previous subject. "We put her to sleep before the first demigods existed, and it was hard to do, harder than Gaea. She is so horrible that she tried to kill Gaea herself. Then, she slept, due to the fact that we barely managed to trick her, but we couldn't keep her asleep indefinitely. By then, after she went into slumber, demigods had started coming around.

"The truth is, we loaned the world because she started stirring again, as we knew she would. The race of demigods were just up and coming. They wouldn't have stood a chance then, as they do no. So, we loaned the world to Unlukuna and the others, knowing that without us around, she would go back to sleep again as there wouldn't be enough power at that time for her to wake up without us present and our pantheon's power there. And so, she slumbers."

"Great," Percy grumbled again. "Just what we need! Thank goodness Ares only sent a projection of himself! And how is it you got away with it?"

"Because Unulukuna and the other gods now inhabiting this world shielded my presence, though it took everything for them to in order that she not wake up. It was a gamble. Because I'm a minor god, it worked, but it wouldn't have worked for an Olympian, or another powerful god like a Titan. However, they're not going to be able to pull that off again. It was a risk.

"However, I needed you to have your team's cooperation. As much as I don't like Brom, at least he's got connections with the elves. That's why we needed him to believe you. And that is why you are there," Triton explained. "She's bound to stir again, and with the curse we put on her, if the Olympians don't come up, she'll go back to sleep again, as she can't resist it without Olympians present. Once we return, she'll certainly wake up."

"Then why not keep it that way?" Percy asked. "Why return at all? And do the others know about this?"

"Other demigods?" Triton questioned. "No. You're the first. We're keeping it hush hush now for a reason, until the right time. As far as keeping things that way, keeping her asleep, it's not an option. She has something we need. You see, she stole something valuable and important to us, even to Titans. We could do without it for a while. You're about to discover from Durza what it is. We have no choice but to go back, Percy. And it could be the death of demigods and legacies if we don't get it. We couldn't retrieve it from her, and the only thing we could do is put her to sleep. It's still in her grasp. The time is up. We have no choice but to return."

"Wonderful," Percy grumbled, worried.

Triton turned to him. "I hate to say this, Percy, but you're still a demigod. There's a time limit. If you don't complete your task, then you may exist for a little longer because you're bound to become a god, but demigods and legacies will cease to exist. Moreover, the gods will be in trouble.

"Demigods, gods, and legacies are more interdependent than you realize. We gods need demigods and legacies too, for our own survival, just as demigods and legacies need gods for their own survival. This titan could destroy us all, destroy our entire pantheon with only her surviving. But the demigods and legacies would die first, then the gods would be destroyed without their mortal children and descendants. Theoretically, then, she could create her own pantheon. And who knows how terrible she'd be to the inhabitants of this world!"

"No pressure," Percy stated, feeling somewhat queasy from this new doomsday prophecy. "I'm beginning to realize why you're sending demigods over. But, isn't it risky to have more demigods come over? Won't she sense the Olympian in us?"

"She's not as acquainted with demigods as the other Titans, because she's never seen them or been around them before," Triton explained. "She's more dead in the senses there. However, yes, the more demigods come over, the more likely she will be to sense the Olympian presence. However, we still have time with only a demigod presence. Not counting the coming apocalypse, of course. You're going to need more demigods to help you in this, though, but not yet. As much as possible, we want to delay. Right now, your focus is on gathering as much information as possible, including from Durza. The rest can wait."

"And when the time comes," Percy asked. "The Olympians will fight?"

Triton nodded.

"We'll have to."

(Murtagh Point of View)

His dreams were odd. Percy was before him, and he was in some sort of cave. The cave was glowing, lit, a fire-like gleam to it. There was a glowing smoke, and as Percy walked towards it, it leapt towards him. Percy was unable to get away, and he was wrapped up in the smoke, being choked to death. Percy screamed, and it seemed like his very life was fading from Murtagh's eyes.

Percy dropped to the ground, dead, and Murtagh wanted to scream, to protect his king.

But, Percy was pale and lifeless, his eyes staring at nothing.

Suddenly, a harsh voice was whispering, laughing evilly.

Then, a man stood before him, dressed shining like the sun. "It's beginning," he told Murtagh, kind and soft, unlike the harsh and evil voice. "You are chosen. You are chosen to the service of the gods. You are to be my next priest in a long while. Beware, though, of the future. The high priestess shall return. Follow what Percy tells you to do, and in his absence the Grande Priestess."

Murtagh woke up with a start.

 **And I will leave everything at this cliffhanger.**

 **Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Repercussions

**I don't own Percy Jackson or Inheritance Cycle.**

Chapter Seven: Repercussions

(Murtagh Point of View)

Murtagh sought Percy out the next day, disturbed by his dream. Percy was in the middle of tying his shoe laces in his room, and Murtagh had been invited in. But when Percy saw his expression, he stopped.

Murtagh remained standing. "I had a dream last night," he said. Percy waited. "You were dying. Then a man came to me. He said I was to follow you, and if you were not around the Grande Priestess." He looked up to Percy for an answer.

Percy closed his eyes. "Tell me," Percy said after a while. "Have you ever had dreams of the future?" Percy opened his eyes and looked at Murtagh.

Remaining frozen, Murtagh nodded. "Though it wasn't always apparent. Until you arrived, I always ignored it. They were sometimes frightening. My mother dying. A red dragon, but not my father's. Galbatorix, what he would do... so I ignored it. Galbatorix didn't seem that way in real life at first, so I didn't believe it."

Percy nodded, looking away. "Apollo," he explained. He looked at Murtagh. "I was told you were chosen. Maybe this is why you are clear sighted. After all... Rachel..." but he stopped his statement there. What he was going to say, Murtagh didn't know.

Shaking his head, Percy continued. "I know who the high Priestess is, but she doesn't reside here. She resides where I'm from, and I don't know if she'll be permitted to come here or not. But, that still means, in my absence, someone has to be in charge. Since Angela has been here so long, I highly suspect Apollo will make her the Grande Priestess."

Murtagh nodded. Percy knew what he was talking about.

Looking at Murtagh, Percy's face became serious. "Tell me, has Apollo called you?"

Murtagh froze. He wasn't ready for it.

"He has, hasn't he?" Percy was sharp.

Murtagh hesitantly nodded.

Standing up, Percy walked up to him. "If you've been chosen, then you're life has been laid out for you. You can't deny the gods. When the time is right, you'll find your way in your new role."

"But..." Murtagh began, in denial. Unfortunately, that wasn't something Percy could help him with. He'd have to come to terms with it himself. "Why me? I'm Morzan's son! What's more, I didn't believe in religion originally! Why have I been chosen, and not Eragon?"

Percy shrug. "Sometimes the gods just do what they do. They have their reasons."

Murtagh looked away, not sure where to go. "Come," Percy commanded, and he walked them out the room. Turning back, he commanded, "Tell no one about it. You're not a priest yet. Apollo hasn't officially taken you yet. But, when the time comes, you'll be ready."

The two of them walked out. Murtagh contemplated things as he followed Percy. He wasn't sure he should have left the part out about Percy dying. Then again, he suspected that Percy knew he was hiding something. If Percy wanted to know, he would have asked.

Murtagh tried to put his guilt away.

(Percy Point of View)

So the gods had been right. Triton had been right. The gods had chosen Murtagh. That much Percy knew. It was later in the day, as Percy was contemplating this, that he went to the lake, hopeful to speak to Triton. When the god didn't come, he purposely laid down and fell asleep in order to communicate with the god.

As he opened his mind, in the dream world, he was in Triton's palace, in front of the throne where Triton sat. Getting up, he bowed.

Triton smiled. "Percy?" he listened intently.

Frowning, Percy replied, "You didn't come."

Suddenly, the god was sad. "You know I couldn't come. Appearing there personally twice was pushing it."

"Not even a third time?" Percy was wistful. "Will the gods always be so distant?"

Seeing that something was bothering him, Triton reassured him, "You're dreams are more connected to us than ever. If you want to talk to us, simply dream, and we will come. An iris message might be starting to get too dangerous. Even Artemis had to lure Murtagh with a dream. Then she had to project herself to Murtagh as Ares did to come speak to you. It's getting too dangerous to be physically present."

Sighing, Percy nodded. He was silent for a long while. Finally, "Murtagh said Apollo chose him."

Triton sat forward on his throne. He seemed surprised, but at the same time he wasn't. It seemed like the obvious choice to him. Nodding, Triton leaned back. "Apollo has chosen well," he murmured.

A small smile split Percy's face. "Were you hoping to make him yours?"

Triton shook his head. "No, he wouldn't do as my priest. I won't deny that he's special. But, usually, there is only one god that one will fit if they are destined to become a priest or priestess, thankfully. There would be fighting otherwise."

Nodding, Percy looked down. "He has very little experience in the demigod world, let alone the world of the divine."

"And you'll need to help him with that. He'll be serving directly under you, you know."

"I know," Percy was sad.

(Eragon Point of View)

With everything Eragon had been reading about his own religion, he was beginning to desire to take a further step and go through the official rites like he was supposed to long ago. However, things were changing, and when it came to religion, he didn't know where he belonged. Should he follow the dwarvish religion? Or should he follow Percy's religion, since he was Percy's vassal?

It was during this time that he noticed Murtagh looking solemn. As they were going through this religious phase together, Eragon thought he'd ask Murtagh what he wanted to do. In many ways, it would be nice to take the step together, as brothers.

But, when Murtagh seemed to become even more solemn he decided to confront him. Murtagh was in his room and Eragon knocked. When no answer came in, he decided to go in anyways. To his surprise, Murtagh was sitting at the desk, faced away from him, deep in thought. As he walked up, Murtagh didn't even stir. It wasn't until Eragon put his hand on Murtagh's shoulder to shake him that Murtagh started and nearly fell out his chair. "Eragon?"

"Is everything all right?" Eragon asked.

Huffing, Murtagh shook his head, repositioning himself on his chair as he was on the edge. "No," he admitted, a worried look on his face. He grimaced. "I'm not sure that I'll ever be okay."

"What happened?" Eragon wanted to know.

Murtagh shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he murmured. He was deep in thought for a moment. Then, his attention turned back to Eragon. "Was there something you needed?"

Hesitating, Eragon wasn't sure this was the right time to bring it up. Then, he finally sat on Murtagh's bed. "I was wanting to talk about religion, actually," Eragon admitted.

Hesitating a minute, Murtagh nodded. He gave his brother his full attention.

Eragon thought things through before he continued. "Have you ever thought... what religion you should join?"

Murtagh was thoughtful. "May as well join Percy's, as he is to install the old religion, anyways."

Eragon nodded. That was what he'd been thinking. But he couldn't help but notice that there was more going on than Murtagh was saying. Getting up, he headed towards the door, but Murtagh stopped him suddenly, speaking out.

"Eragon?"

Eragon turned back to his brother. Murtagh's eyes were full of concern.

"No matter what," his brother finally continued. "You're going to need to be very respectful of any gods you meet, especially these Olympians. I... I don't think they take to offenses as easily as the gods we're accustomed to."

Curious and feeling a bit trepidation of what that meant, Eragon acknowledged him nonverbally. He'd have to give it some thought.

Then, he left.

(Percy Point of View)

As his stay with the dwarves continued, (Percy occasionally chatting in his dreams to both Guntera and Unlukuna), the elf kept trailing him. Whenever he wanted to speak to someone, the elf was always there. Whenever he went into a meeting, the elf was always there.

In the end, he knew there was nothing he could do about it (or perhaps he could, but he thought it was more trouble than it was worth). But, to his anoyance, perhaps it was for the best in order to fulfill Percy's plan.

The Varden had discussed Nasuada a lot, and, eventually, it became obvious that she was not going to be accepted back. That left the Varden in a tricky position. While an atheist was much more preferred to a heretic, it still caused tension when it was announced that should anything happen to Ajihad, Brom would lead the Varden. Thus, Percy had gotten what he'd wanted, though he didn't make it known, and he played neutral. The elf, whatever she had done to secure Brom the position, had done him a favor. At the right time, he was going to have to thank her. Or not. He'd saved her life, and she'd given him a number of problems.

Moreover, the information about Nasuada had tainted Ajihad's reputation, leaving many members of the Varden disgruntled. While most were desirous to have Percy lead, as always, Percy was refusing.

In many ways, it was amusing watching Arya discreetly every time Percy refused the request. He could tell the elf was struggling to figure him out. But he kept his emotions always hidden.

Perhaps she thought he was indirectly playing with her. Perhaps not.

However, to the elf, this left the situation of Percy volatile. Percy was not part of any faction in Alagaesia. What's more, it was known that he had allegiances outside of the continent (they didn't realize that it was an entire world away), particularly to his kingly father.

The dwarves knew that he was different. Even the priests would sometimes talk about it in hush hush tones, believing that at the distance Percy was at, he couldn't hear them. But, they knew he was special, they just didn't know how. What's more was that Guntera's warning gave all, human and dwarf, respect for him, the exception being Arya. Even Brom, who knew what he truly was, was careful and respectful. He knew that the deities where Percy came from were powerful, and it was clear he didn't want to irk them. Perhaps he remembered his all to vivid encounter with them.

The twins, however, were strained. While Percy had no training in magic, and the magic was different from Hectate's power, which was more of a deities power, at the same time, they'd assumed him able to do spells from Alagaesia. Percy had never tried. Therefore, they were on the line as to whether he had magic or not, though as a rider everyone knew he should have it.

Percy knew that he held the lesser magic. Any of the divine could use it. And especially since he was a dragon rider, it was more accessible to him, even though it was very accessible beforehand. But he would be using Hectate's magic, as every demigod could, that is if his father and Hectate could work it out, ever since the whole incident with Triton, Ares, and Olympus. He didn't dare use any of her magic while she was still wrathful with his brother and father. If he had to, he'd use Alagaesian magic, even though it wasn't as powerful as godly magic, which any demigod or legacy was entitled to.

He knew he could, and would have unlimited power due to his demigod status, even a legacy would. Alagaesian magic was less powerful than godly magic and also godly powers. However, that was still Hectate's realm, and he didn't want to delve in too much for fear he might offend the goddess. Triton's little bickering on Olympus had caused some altercations between not just Posiedon, Triton and Hectate, but the entire sea and that Titan. None the less, if it came down to it, and being able to fulfill his mission, he knew she wouldn't oblige.

So, he was stuck with his godly powers, which were more than sufficient.

And the twins wanted him to join their little "club". Their expressions were quite amusing when Percy said "no". They couldn't imagine why Percy would say no when everyone in Du Vrangr Gata supported him.

After the sixteenth time, as they were preparing to face an entire army of urgals, they'd asked him, and he'd said no. Arya, who was nearby, decided to confront him. She was in elvish armor, and a bow by her side. "Why do you keep telling them no?" she asked, and this time she seemed genuinely curious.

Percy grimaced. The twins were a sore topic for him. "Not interested," was all he would say.

"Why not?" Arya pushed, somewhat sharp.

Percy, in full Roman armor (he had a Greek set as well but found he wanted Roman armor this time), shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"How can I?" Arya was sarcastic. "You never say anything."

Percy, who was sharpening his gladius which had ordinary steel mixed with imperial gold in it looked briefly at her (the Romans had learned the secret to making Imperial Gold, and the Greeks had recently, before Percy left, obtained the art of learning how to make Celestial Bronze). Riptide was nice, but this blade was also enchanted to be balanced for him, and he would be using it in battle. He'd promised his dad, in Neptune form, that he'd test it out. "Why should I? You mock everything I do."

Taken aback, Arya, who was sharpening some arrows, stopped for a moment, in deep thought. "You confuse me," she admitted. "You're unlike any human I've met. I don't understand you."

Chuckling a little, Percy shook his head. "Same back where I'm from. I'm used to it, even from my own family."

Arya seemed surprised. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Because I was never supposed to exist," Percy admitted. He frowned, carefully choosing what to reveal. After all, others were listening in. "My father... broke rules by having me."

Arya seemed even more perplexed. "How so?"

Percy shook his head. How could he shape the answer without giving away what he was. Examining the fine gladius as he responded, he explained, "My father and uncles... were at war. And my cousins and older brothers were at war. Let's just say... it didn't end well. It never ends well when the family fights. So, as a compensation, at the end of the war...my father and uncles... well... they made a pact. But to be fair, one of my uncles broke the pact as well, so not all the blame is on my father. And he did it twice. My father only did it once, with me. My other uncle was the only one not to break the pact."

"I don't understand. Pact?" Arya was drawn in.

Hesitating, Percy admitted, "They weren't well... supposed to have more children." It was a partial truth. It was only demigod children they weren't supposed to have.

Arya seemed to find it odd, but she nodded. "Your father had you. And your one uncle did as well."

"Yup," Percy admitted. "Of course, after a war, all of us on the same side this time, I negotiated for that little pact to end. It never worked, anyways, and it was ridiculous. And that's the end of it."

Nodding, Arya seemed in thought, pocketing this little tidbit away. After a bit, she added, "Children are beloved by elves. We think it's the epitome of love."

Percy pocketed this little tidbit away. It was weird to be having a friendly conversation with the elf. With Arya, rather. Tilting his head in curiosity, Percy asked, "Why are the elves so against religion?"

Arya was taken aback. How to explain it, seemed to be her expression "We believe what we see," she told him. "We believe what is rational."

"And after seeing Guntera, you still doubt?" Percy challenged slightly.

Breathing deeply, Arya placed her bow down. "I don't know," she finally admitted after a long silence. "Everything that I've experienced... it's gone against what I was taught. I don't understand anymore."

They both took a break from the conversation.

At that moment, a young man ran up to him. "Percy, Arya, the Varden and Dwarves want you present," he said. But, on second thought, he added to Percy, "If you want, sir."

Nodding, Percy got up. "I'll be there," he promised.

He and Arya walked over to the place where the dwarves were meeting with the Varden. Brom was present, and when they saw Percy, he was immediately welcomed in. Even Eragon and Murtagh were present.

There was a small table, and all were crowded around. Around it was a map of tunnels.

Ajihad was pointing to a certain place on the map. He showed it to Percy. "We're going to collapse the tunnels. If we drive them in, then we might be able to stand a chance as we funnel them. We can take out a certain number."

Percy was expressionless. The shade was still a problem. Brom watched Percy, while some looked at Percy's armor in curiosity. "The shade," Percy brought up, choosing not to contribute to the plan any. While he could come up with a better solution, at the same time, he didn't want to. There was something bigger for him to do. "I need him alive... at least temporarily. I need to question him. Alone."

Brom looked up in shock. Even Arya seemed alarmed. "Why?" Brom asked, careful, as if he knew there was more going on than met the eye.

Instead, Percy looked to King Hrothgar. "We both know he's a bigger issue right now."

Nodding, King Hrothgar gave in with a sigh. "Of course," he murmured softly. With that, Percy remained silent the rest of the meeting.

Brom took him aside afterwords, his expression worried. When they were out of hearing range, Brom asked him, "Why corner the shade? I know you're powerful, Percy, but that doesn't mean we can't help."

Looking him straight in the eyes, Percy shook his head. "No. This is for me to do alone. The shade has information I need."

"Information you want quiet," Brom replied.

Shaking his head, Percy let out a deep breath. "I don't know the nature of the information. That information may be dangerous. In case of that, I need to be the one to deal with it as I can handle it."

Hesitant, Brom nodded, conceding.

Concern took Percy's voice then. "Please make sure Eragon and Murtagh are all right," he whispered.

Nodding, Brom replied, "You know I will."

Percy acknowledged him. Then, they parted.

(A little while later)

As the battle commenced, Percy remained with Eragon and Murtagh, on top of his Pegasus. Anaklusmos and Saphira soared ahead, fully armored, taking out enemy soldiers when they could.

Meanwhile, Percy fought like a whirlwind, anyone touching his pegasus vanishing in dust as the gods' blessings were on the animals. It was after that, in a break, that the rumor of why Percy had cautioned them not to touch Blackjack went around.

When the battle commenced again, Percy purposefully dove into the ranks of the enemy soldiers, cutting a hole in their troops. Then, feeling the shade near, he left the ranks.

Percy found the Durza near in an abandoned tunnel. His gladius gleaming, enchanted to return to him, he went to meet up the shade.

At first, Durza was turned away. It wasn't until Percy cleared his throat that the shade turned around. Percy's face was expressionless, under his Roman helmet.

The shade smiled softly. He clucked his tongue. "My, my. Quite the... outfit you have."

"Humph!" Percy snorted. He brandished his gladius. "If you're done mocking me, you and I have unfinished business to attend."

"Ah, yes!" the shade unsheathed the blade at his belt. "We do.. don't we?"

Percy stalked forward. But he was also surprised when the shade made no resistance as he placed the gladius close to the shade's throat. "You think I'm bluffing?" Percy coldly replied.

"You did last time," the shade pointed out.

Percy pushed the blade softly into his throat and noticed the shocked expression on the shade's face as he began fading away. The shade quickly backed away, seeing that he was in danger. "You don't even protect yourself," Percy scoffed.

The shade was doubled over, coughing. He straightened up after a while. "That is no ordinary sword," he eyed the gladius carefully, warily.

"Of course not," Percy was cold. He stepped forward and this time the shade placed his own scratched blade in front of himself in protection. "Then why keep me alive?" the shade asked.

Advance forward, bringing his gladius up, Percy stopped three feet away from the sword. "I have questions for you to answer," was Percy's icy response.

"Oh?" the shade mocked.

Ignoring him, Percy started the interrogation, knowing that he'd need to be careful. While the shade couldn't enter Percy's mind, at the same time, Percy knew that if he entered the shade's mind, then the shade would die. He couldn't let that happen until he had the information.

"Three years ago," Percy began his interrogation. "Galbatorix sent you on a mission. You came back, claiming that you'd failed. But you didn't did you?"

Durza's eyes widened as he realized that Percy knew something. So, Percy pushed further. "What was it you found?"

"What makes you think I found anything?" Durza spat. "As I told him, I failed!"

"No," Percy pushed. "You didn't fail. You found what it was what you were looking for. It was what you found alongside it that frightened you. For once, you did the right thing. You had no idea what it was that you found, did you?"

"I found nothing!" Durza hissed and struck at him with his blade. But Percy easily deflected it.

"Then explain my knowledge!" Percy challenged. "What was it you found!"

"You're deranged!" Durza hissed, striking again. "Nothing was found!"

"Tell me!" Percy shouted, and, having enough of this, he used the water in the shade's blood to hold him still.

Durza struggled, but was unable to move. His eyes were wide. "What was it you found?!" Percy demanded.

Chocking slightly, eyes frightened for the first time Percy had seen, Durza started talking. "Galbatorix wanted the true name of the ancient language. The place I went contained a hint, but nothing more than that. But... the scrolls..."

The terror in the shade's face was incredible. Some part of Percy was worried. "There were other scrolls there?" Percy asked.

Durza was chocking from the hold Percy had, and Percy let up a little. He was three feet away. "The voice... something there... something... unnatural."

A shiver went down Percy's spine. It had to be the titan... had to... But how? Wasn't she asleep? Even Triton didn't know what it was that Durza had found. None of the Olympians knew. "What voice?" Percy questioned further. "And the scrolls what did they say?"

"I couldn't read the scrolls," Durza was quick to say. No doubt it was in ancient Greek. "But the voice, I couldn't understand it! There was power in that cave!"

At this point, Percy knew that Durza had reached his limit. There was something else that was wrong. "What else?" Percy demanded.

Durza shook his head. "A woman. A woman of incredible power. She followed the voice. But... she was trapped behind ice. But she could hear, could feel, could influence the room... I know it!"

At this point, Percy knew he was going to have to investigate. Something was wrong, he knew. Durza had been frightened out of his mind, whatever she had done. What Durza had encountered was something the Olympians had been trying to figure out. But being unable to go there personally, they'd needed to find out what it was. They were wrong on one point. Durza didn't know as much as they'd thought. But it was a clue.

"This place?" Percy demanded. "Where is it."

Durza shook his head. "No, don't go! It's unnatural!"

"The place," Percy demanded sternly. " _ **Where is it**_?"

At that moment, footsteps were heard, and King Hrothgar along with Arya and a human soldier appeared. "Percy!" Arya called out.

"Stay back," Percy called out, the shade immobile. Percy turned back to the choking shade. " _ **Where**_?" he demanded.

"Another continent," the shade chocked as Percy applied pressure.

"Where _**exactly**_?" Percy pushed.

Cracking, the shade whispered through chocking, "In the south continent. By giant hills and springs. In a stone cave. The only one of it's kind!"

Frustrated, Percy released the shade. The shade was doubled over, trying to recover. But, when the shade suddenly made a move and tried to stab Percy, Percy was quick. Even the elf wasn't so fast. Taking his gladius, he stabbed the shade in the chest. It was not by the heart, but since this was Imperial gold, he knew it would kill the shade, as it would kill any magical creature, including elves, whether magical or not. And then there was the regular steel coupled with it.

The shade appeared to be in shock before disintegrating due to the nature of the sword. Exploding in dust, Percy remained unaffected.

He turned back to the others who were in shock. "What was that?" Arya was asking Percy.

But Percy shook his head, worried. "Something's wrong," he murmured. He turned back to Hrothgar. "The battle, is it over?"

Hrothgar nodded.

Arya was frozen, entranced by Percy. Shaking his head, Percy sheathed his gladius. "I have to leave," he murmured.

"Leave?!" Arya exclaimed.

Looking her straight in the eye, Percy exclaimed, "The shade found... something. What it is, I don't know. But it's something I need to investigate."

King Hrothgar seemed to be in deep thought, as well as worried. His expression was as if he suspected Percy was on business for the gods, which he was.

"Can it wait?" Arya was practically begging. "We just barely finished battle. There is much to do!"

Percy hesitated. Then he nodded. "Keep this to yourself," he demanded. "Whatever this is, it's best not to call attention to it."

At that moment, Hrothgar spoke up. "Is it something of the old religion?"

Percy nodded.

Hrothgar's expression changed to one of consideration. "Come," he summoned Percy, and Percy followed him, walking with him down the narrow tunnels. "Have you ever read the prophecy in full?"

Percy shook his head. "No," he admitted.

"Then, perhaps it's time you have," Hrothgar insisted. He led Percy down corridors, and the elf and human accompanying him. Finally, when they reached the library, Hrothgar opened a secret compartment on the far wall. Inside, he brought out a piece of paper written in ancient Greek. Percy's eyes widened when he saw it. "Long ago, our ancestors translated it, but we can no longer read it. We've only used the translated versions as the script of the original is unreadable to us."

"Not to me," Percy murmured, taking it in his hands as a copy that was written in dwarvish and much newer looking was handed to Arya and the human.

Percy skimmed the prophecy. It was short and sweet like many he'd heard. But, there was something in the script that caught his eye after the phrases that were undoubtedly about Galbatorix.

Curious, looking at the translation that Arya had, despite his dyslexia, he was able to read it with a bit of struggling. 'The lone daughter of the earth stirs.'

Percy shook his head. "That's not translated correctly," he replied, and Hrothgar seemed surprised. He turned back to the Greek manuscript he saw. For his Greek mind, it, and even a Latin version would have been much more legible. As the Greek version, this was much easier on his eyes. "You have it written that 'The lone daughter of the earth stirs'. It should be rendered, 'The solitary daughter of Gaea stirs.'"

"Are they not the same thing?" Hrothgar asked. "Our ancestors who translated it said it to be the lone daughter of the earth."

Percy shook his head. "Perhaps they thought that, but the nuances in Greek, which this is written in, ends up creating a big difference between lone and solitary, earth and Gaea. Solitary is alone, while lone implies that there is only one. That's not true. Earth should be translated as Gaea, the primordial goddess who was the earth. There is a difference. Gaea had many children and many daughters. It should be translated as the solitary daughter of the goddess Gaea."

Arya seemed perplexed. "You seem to place a lot of emphasis on that particular translation."

"For a reason," Percy was strained. "This implies that Galbatorix is not the only threat. I've met Gaea before... Its not a pretty site... She's not very friendly..."

Arya had an unusual expression, and King Hrothgar was in deep thought. "This Gaea... should she not be honored?"

Percy was hesitant. How to explain this?

"The primordial goddess," Percy carefully replied. "Is dangerous. Poseidon, whom I serve, is technically her grandson, as are all the deities that I serve. However, they are rightfully wary of Gaea. Given the chance, she would destroy everything. She's even tried to destroy her grandchildren before. The politics of the godly family are... difficult to say the least. It is not the primordial gods but the Olympian gods you should serve. They would try hard to protect from Gaea."

At this, Hrothgar nodded, seeming intrigued.

Arya was watching Percy carefully. "This is why you want to leave?"

Percy nodded. "Gaea produced the Titans, who can also be dangerous, minus a few. If there is danger, then as a servant to the gods, I have to check it out."

Sighing, Hrothgar nodded, murmuring his blessing, but Arya was hesitant. "At least a few more days? And perhaps a visit to the elves on the way?"

"Out of the question!" Percy shook his head. "It's in the opposite direction! You heard the shade. It's in the south country!"

"Perhaps," Hrothgar stepped in between them, "A compromise." At this, Percy raised his eyebrows, surprised at Hrothgar's subtle challenge. The king was a devout religious follower, and would know that he was taking a risk of invoking the wrath of the gods by treating Percy like this. "Perhaps you need only spend a few more days with us? And in compromise, Eragon can be sent to the elves instead?"

Miffed, Percy took a breath. But, it was a reasonable offer. That's why he would offer it. He knew Percy would listen to reason. Out of everyone, he'd somehow learned more about Percy through observation than anyone else.

Also, Percy could see his motivation, and it was an indirect way of helping Percy. They had to throw the elf a bone. After all, since Percy was the senior rider, Arya would be wanting to take him to the elves. But, Hrothgar was helping him out of that by slyly proposing a counter solution that Arya would have no choice to accept. She wouldn't get a better offer, and she would know it. So, Percy found himself glad of Hrothgar's interference. It was a clever tactic.

Countering with his own offer, he conceded, "If that's the case, then perhaps Arya, who is so insistent, should come with me? After all, Brom has connections to the elves. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking his son over there."

To his surprise, Arya full hardheartedly agreed. "Very well. But Murtagh goes with Brom. It's only fitting that the brothers don't be separated."

Percy gave it some thought. Then he gave his approval. "Very well. Unless he says otherwise, then he can go with his family."

Why Arya was insistent that Murtagh go with Eragon, he didn't know. Being the stepson of Brom, there wasn't much the Varden or Dwarves could do to him. He was practically untouchable, despite who his father was. Moreover, everyone's confidence in him was increasing. And having served the Dwarves in battle, that was bound to increase people's trust in him.

"Very well," Hrothgar agreed. "I'm glad that's settled."

"So am I," Arya nodded to Percy.

Percy nodded stiffly and exited.

(Murtagh Point of View)

"You what!" Murtagh exclaimed. The news of Percy's defeat of the shade had been going around. But, at the same time, Murtagh, Brom, and Eragon had been informed of the negotiation that Arya and Percy had reached. However, it was being kept under wraps.

"Murtagh!" Eragon reprimanded him. "Be careful of how you speak to Percy!"

Percy, though, was perfectly understanding. "It's for the best," Percy promised him. "I know we didn't ask you, but I did say in there that you had a choice."

Murtagh was a little glad that it was just Percy and the humans. He wasn't sure that he wanted Arya to see him like this. Murtagh paced. "I don't understand."

At this, Brom stirred. "I think Arya is right in this. Sooner or later, you're going to have to confront the elves. Now is better than never, especially since you have the approval of both the Varden and the Dwarves. Any delays, and politics may take over. We need to secure the support of the elves to you while the memory of what you did on the battlefield is still fresh."

Murtagh sighed. It didn't seem right to him. He felt his place was at Percy's side. Somehow, Percy was supposed to guide him in the service of the gods.

Walking out of the room that they were in, Murtagh wandered around, angry.

It was as Murtagh was walking, that he head foosteps behind him. The twins were behind him. "Ah, son of Morzon," one said. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Murtagh rolled his eyes. "I'm not in the mood!" he snapped.

Suddenly, there were more footsteps, and urgals appeared out of nowhere. But, as he unsheathed his gleaming sword, he heard the voice of enchanting.

He was knocked unconscious.

(Percy Point of View)

The news of the attack had reached Percy. Nasuada had been in mourning, especially since her father had died in a sudden ambush of urgals. This had made Brom the sudden leader of the Varden.

Murtagh had mysteriously disappeared, and unlike Ajihad, his body was never found. Several days they'd been searching, on orders from his stepfather, Eragon and Percy most emphatic to find him of all, and several days Percy had been asking the gods about the matter, including Apollo to no avail. All Apollo would do whenever he contacted the god in dreams was offer to give him archery tips and show his his enormous palace. He could never get the god to answer him.

Percy surveyed the damaged, and there were few Urgals dead. It was the same as several days ago. They'd searched all the tunnels the past few couple of weeks. However, Murtagh was nowhere to be seen. Arya appeared worried. "He must be dead. They attacked him and the twins out of nowhere."

Percy shook his head. Brom and Eragon were beside him, Percy's gleaming gladius out. He was in Greek armor this time. "No," he replied. "He's still alive. Apollo said he was." And that was the only hint Apollo would give him. Percy had gone out to track Murtagh several times, but each time, the gods would call him back to the dwarves, saying there was a matter of great importance. And then there never was. Percy was downright frustrated. He could have tracked Murtagh down if it wasn't for the gods!

Finally, Percy had confronted them, and that was when Apollo began playing his game. Whatever tracks there were of Murtagh potentially were washed away by now, and so Percy desperately needed divine help in order to locate Murtagh. At the final contact Apollo had thrown him a hint, Murtagh was alive. It wasn't much use, though, since Percy had suspected it was possible. But the god wouldn't say any more.

"Apollo?" a voice said, and Percy turned around to answer Brom.

"One of the gods I serve," was all Percy would answer, and he turned back. As they moved further in, Percy could see sunlight in the distance. Walking over, he and Arya were the fastest. They emerged and overlooked a cliff which showed the desert in front of the mountains.

"I didn't realize you were as fast as an elf," Arya murmured, and Percy ignored her as he stared out across the vast desert. He was faster than an elf, actually. All demigods and legacies were. He just wasn't in the mood to race her. She seemed more intrigued. "That explains how you were so quick to kill the shade."

Percy was calculating as he looked out over the distance. A group wouldn't travel so fast. He could easily catch up. However, since Murtagh was destined to be Apollo's priest, he wanted to consult with him someone else before he headed out. Something wasn't right. Apollo should have warned Murtagh. Why leave his future priest so unprotected? Why not warn him?

Since Murtagh was human, that meant that even when a priest, he still wouldn't get communication with the gods as often as a demigod or legacy would, and was subject to demigods and legacies. And he wouldn't be as integrated into the divine world as Percy would be. However, he could still get some communications. Why hadn't Apollo warned him? And why was he not warned?

Percy had been told to protect Murtagh, after all. But his dream communications would yield nothing.

Apollo wasn't answering him, and when he'd asked Triton, Triton had merely replied that he needed to ask Apollo, even though he already had and knew his brother had, since Murtagh was claimed by Apollo. "Gods don't like other gods interfering with their priests and priestesses, or those they have chosen to become such," he reminded Percy. "It's not like demigods or legacies, where any god may interfere. But, as demigod, and even for a legacy, any of the divine children have a right to interfere with any priest or priestess, or those chosen to be, and to offer sacrifice to any of the gods. A priest or priestess may only offer sacrifices to the gods they serve." At this, Percy had taken a hint.

Walking back, he ignored Arya as she called out to him. Instead, he decided to seek Angela out.

He found the priestess tending to some potions. When Percy walked into her house without permission, sitting down in front of her, Angela seemed surprised. "My lord?" she asked. "To what do I have this honor?"

At this moment, Arya, Eragon, and Brom walked in. Even Orik was present.

Percy eyed Angela seriously. "The altars of the old gods. Do any of them still exist?"

"Some," Angela answered, perfectly cooperative. But she seemed intrigued. "May I ask why?"

"I need to know where Apollo's altar is," Percy replied. "Or his temple. It doesn't matter which."

Angela seemed to understand. Since a demigod could do anything a priest or priestess could do for any god, she seemed to know Percy's intention. Standing up, she admitted, back turned, "Here among the dwarves, there are some altars to the old gods. But they haven't been touched for ages. Long ago I sealed them, so even the dwarves don't have access to them."

"Show me," Percy commanded.

Nodding, Angela led the way down several corridors, until they came to a dead end. Faltering, she turned to Percy. That's when Percy knew he needed to open it since he was the divine one.

Understanding, Percy came in front. Speaking in Greek, he commanded, "Let the door to the temples of the old gods open."

To everyone's surprise, the wall crashed down. It exposed a secret room that was dark. Orik exclaimed, "How! We didn't even know this was here!"

Percy entered. An ancient torch was on the wall, and Percy used his godly powers to ignite it. Torches all around the room lit, and he saw columns all supporting a vast hall. At the end was a row of altars, statues of various gods in front of them.

The room was dusty, and as footsteps came, no doubt from the chaos, Percy walked up the stairs leading up to the altars. Kneeling first in front of his father's altar, which was in front of the statue of his father, he whispered, "Poseidon." Then, he walked over to Apollo's altar.

Behind him, he was aware of both Brom and Eragon staring at the statue of Triton, no doubt remembering their experience. Arya seemed curious at the looks they were given the statue. He was aware of Hrothgar coming in, curious.

Angela was right behind Percy, watching him. Percy began praying to Apollo in front of the altar, knelt, hands extended out to his side as he whispered in both Greek and Latin. Then, transporting a bag of his to him, he took out a stuffed panda toy. Standing up, he stepped up to the Altar. Taking the dagger by his side, he began ripping it apart with his dagger methodically, continuing to speak in Greek and Latin.

At this point, he heard Arya behind him asking, "What's he doing?"

"Performing sacrifice," Angela replied as she continued to watch Percy.

"He's a priest? Of that god?" Orik asked.

Angela never replied.

The others were staring at him, intrigued, and suddenly the altar began glowing.

Staring into the light Percy saw Apollo's face in it. "Percy!" the god greeted him. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" the god spoke in Latin, keeping their conversation quiet.

Percy replied in Latin, a bit upset with his cousin, "Murtagh is gone. He was attacked."

The god sombered up immediately. "It had to be," was all the god would say. "And as the god of prophecy, I can assure you that you will have success retrieving him."

"Why let him be captured, then? He told me you said he was to be your priest."

"Ah," the god replied, looking away. "Well, you'll know when you find him."

"You're delaying me purposefully?" Percy wondered. "That's why you wouldn't respond to my dreams? That's why you'd play around, telling me about all the cool trick shots you did? That's why you would never give me a straight answer?"

The god didn't answer for a while. "You _**will** _ retrieve him," he promised Percy, and Percy sighed. Of course that was all he would get.

The altar stopped glowing, and everything was returned to normal. Percy stepped away. The gods couldn't keep up this manner of communication much longer as it was much stronger than using dreams. Walking down the steps, he stopped by Angela.

The others were looking at him intriguingly. Hrothgar seemed in thought. Perhaps he did believe Percy to be a priest. Orik was curious, but Arya was the most curious of all.

"I've never seen anything like that before," the elf murmured, and Percy could tell her mind was beginning to open up the possibility of gods existing.

Percy faced Brom. "We need to leave. We're retrieving Murtagh."

"How?" Brom asked, concern for his step son on his face. Apparently he didn't mind leaving the Varden behind temporarily. He'd probably set up measures in case he had to absent for a little while from the Varden. "Do you know where he's at?"

Percy huffed, hand to his head. "He's alive. That's all I know."

At that moment, an idea popped into his head. Heading out, he went to his quarters. "Where are you going?" Arya called out.

But Angela answered for him. "Leave him. He may obtain more information this way."

When he reached his quarters, Percy took his shoes off and plopped on his bed. It was time to visit his girlfriend... and have a nap.

Closing his eyes, it didn't take him long to fall asleep. As he did, he woke up in Camp Jupiter. To his surprise, he ended up walking beside Jason. Like the others, Percy was elated when Jason escaped from the underworld. Why Hades/Pluto had allowed it, he didn't know. On top of the promise that he was going to be a god when he died next time, Jason seemed to be doing well.

Jason started when he saw him. "Percy?"

Percy smiled. "I take it Annabeth is here?"

Jason chuckled. "What, not going to talk to me? It's been a while, you know."

"Yeah," Percy looked sheepish. "I will," he promised. "But it's really important."

Jason nodded and he led him to a small tent that had been set up temporarily, where Annabeth was staying. Part of him felt guilty for keeping what he knew from everyone, but he was under orders.

Annabeth, whose tent door was open, ran out to meet him. "Percy?"

Percy smiled. When Jason made to leave, Percy held his wrist. "Actually, you mind coming in on this conference?"

Jason shrugged and went into the tent with him.

Sitting down in front of the table, Percy spilled out his dilemma about Murtagh being the next priest to Apollo, and his disappearance. The others listened.

Annabeth was in great thought. Then, she answered Percy. "Is there any enemy that would have a great interest in this Murtagh?"

At that point, Percy froze. There was one that would have **_absolute_** interest - Galbatorix. "The capital city," Percy concluded, sitting back in realization. " _ **That's**_ where he as to be!"

"There you have it," Annabeth said. She was silent.

At this point, Jason decided to bring something up. "All the children and descendants of the gods were summoned to Olympus recently, even the adults. Something's stirring, Percy. Jupiter has ordered the legions and the Greeks to organize for war."

A shiver went down Percy's spine. "I know," he breathed out his admittance. He closed his eyes. He'd lost too much of his friends and family... there was so much at stake...

"Percy?" Annabeth was concerned.

Percy opened his eyes. "I'm not allowed to say anything yet," he admitted. "But there's great trouble stirring. I'm... going to need help... before this is over."

"Help!" Jason was surprised, eyeing Percy in wary. "But these are mortals! What could mortals do to demigods and legacies?"

"Not mortals," Percy warned.

Annabeth and Jason exchanged a glance. He could tell that Annabeth had gotten the hint: a godly menace was stirring.

"Di immortals!" Annabeth gasped. She closed her eyes in stress and grief. "Are we never going to get a break?"

Jason was eyeing Annabeth in wary, not having put two and two together.

Percy got up. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I have to go."

Opening his eyes, he was back in his room at the dwarvish home. He sat up with a sigh. He was fairly sure he knew where Murtagh was. Just one problem: they would be so close to the elven homeland that Arya, who would no doubt come, was bound to push him for a visit to her homeland.

Walking out of his room, in shoes again, Percy tracked down the group. Arya was there, unfortunately, but so was Brom and Eragon.

"Pack your bags," Percy ordered. "We're leaving."

"Where to?" Brom was cautious.

"To Uru'Baen."

(Brom Point of View)

What Percy had suggested was preposterous. But then again, he was half god. Could it really be that preposterous then?

Watching Percy do sacrifice to his gods had been a bit unnerving. And when the altar had lit up, and then a cloud concealed Percy from the group, Arya had been in shock. Needless to say, when Percy had left afterwards, the elf had been questioning the dwarves relentlessly. She was clearly in denial about what she'd witnessed. He'd had to take her away from them before she got on their nerves too much. And then Percy had shown up, saying they were going to Uru'Baen.

On Ajihad's death, knowing Murtagh was missing, Brom had set things up to where the council would rule jointly in his absence should he have to disappear temporarily. It wasn't the best solution, he knew, but it was the most he could do last minute. At the very least he would be able to take over again when he came back. It was his right as founder of the Varden, after all.

And now, his preparations were paying off, allowing him to go after his stepson.

That was how he'd found himself riding on his horse behind the winged horse. What had Percy called him? Pegasas?

Then they were in the air, the horses left behind. Brom and Arya were on Anaklusmos (what a weird name), while Eragon rode on Saphira. Watching the pegasus fly was rather interesting, though.

The moment Arya had tried to communicate with Anaklusmos, she'd known the dragon was different. But, she urged them closer to Percy. "Do you have a plan as to how to break Murtagh out of the king's grip?"

Percy didn't answer them at first. He was in deep thought. "I have my ways inside, Arya," he finally replied, still in deep thought.

At this point, the elf dropped it.

That night, as they camped, Percy opened up a bit to them. He was tending the fire. "You two will stay with the dragons."

"No," Arya was sharp.

Percy looked up at her. "I can get him out," Percy reassured her.

"Not without us you're not," Arya was firm. "This is _**Galbatorix**_ we're talking about."

Sighing, Percy was frustrated. "Fine!" he snapped. "Just stay by my side!"

Brom was silent. He knew that when Percy made his mind, that was that. "How are we going to get inside?" he finally questioned Percy.

"Mist travel," was Percy's careful reply. When Arya moved to ask what mist travel was, he shook his head. "You'll see."

Eragon was leaned against his dragon. "We'll need to fly away fast after that," he suggested.

Percy nodded. Then there was that.

Their rest was light that night, being deep in the empire. None of them felt comfortable sleeping, and Percy was in deep thought. Brom could tell that there was a lot occupying his mind.

The next morning, they were in the air again, and Arya cast an invisible spell to cover their tracks. Percy rolled his eyes when she did this, and none of them questioned why. He muttered in some foreign language to himself.

They arrived near the outside of Uru'baen around midday, and going some ways away from the city, they took shelter. When they were far enough away that Arya was sure they wouldn't attract too much attention, she undid the spell, clearly exhausted.

Brom suspected he knew why Percy looked irritable as she did this: Alagaesian magic didn't seem to affect Percy, and Percy was already doing something to hide them. However, he knew Arya was stubborn and wouldn't listen to reason, so he let her.

At this point, they gathered in a circle, everyone staying well away from the pegasus, especially after what they'd seen in battle. Percy, who was dressed in his armor, a different set from the last battle (how many different armors did he have? Armors were expensive! He must have been rich!)

After a while, Percy voiced his thoughts. "We'll enter the city tonight."

Arya seemed frustrated. "Just like that?" she seethed. "No thought for anything? No plan?"

Percy was expressionless. " _ **You**_ weren't supposed to come along. You're _**lucky**_ you're coming."

With that, the prince moved away. When Arya made a move to go after him, Brom held her back. "Don't," he warned her gently. Sitting gracefully down on the ground, Arya eyed him. The, she changed her complexion to a human complexion. "Why are you always siding with him?" Arya was miffed.

"And why are you always irking him?" Brom raised his eyebrows. When she didn't answer, he continued. "You're going to have to get along with him. Like it or not, he's a major player against Galbatorix, perhaps the only player suited to fighting him. We need him on our side."

"I get the feeling he doesn't side with anybody."

Brom didn't know how to voice his next thoughts without giving anything away vital. "Arya Drottingu," he was slow as he put his thoughts together. "He has loyalties, just not to any in Alagaesia. There are... others involved in this conflict... that have yet to be seen."

"What do you mean?" Arya demanded, somewhat alarmed. It seemed the idea of a third party involved in the war was something that was disconcerting to her.

Brom remained silent, leaning back. But, when Arya pushed him further, Brom shook his head. "Let him speak for himself."

Things were silent after that as Arya seethed. He knew she wasn't used to being left out of the loophole. And Brom had been hoping that she and Percy had been making progress. Apparently not.

Sometime later, the prince returned. Percy cast his glance around the group and nodded in approval. "All right," he announced in a firm voice. "It's time for us to leave."

Brom stood up, and so did Arya. Eragon cast one last glance at his dragon, and then he got up as well. When Percy held out his hands, they all looked at him strangely. He chuckled a little, amused. "We need to hold hands," he said, his mouth twitching in humor. When he saw their reluctance, he shook his head. "Hey, at least it's not shadow travel."

Brom had no idea what that meant, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. But, none the less, they grasped hands, forming a circle. Percy still seemed a bit amused. "Don't get car sick," he warned, and the humor was lost on Brom.

There was a sudden lurch. Suddenly, Brom felt sick to his stomach as the scenery changed. They twisted and lurched, no longer feeling like their bodies were intact.

Brom wasn't sure that he liked this godly skill of Percy's. It was nauseating and disorienting. He felt like he was nothing but water vapor.

It all happened in less than a fraction of a second. Then, they had materialized inside some sort of dungeon. He had no chance to look around him, for as soon as they landed and materialized everyone but Percy was on the floor puking, even Arya. It took a moment for Brom to compose himself, dreading that this was probably how they were going to get out of Uru'baen.

Percy had his hand in his hair. "Yeah, I hear it can be disorienting to those other than me. Reminds me of shadow travel."

"Disorienting?!" Brom was in disbelief. "If anything is going to kill us, its that mist travel!"

Shrugging, Percy responded, "Well if it works, it works."

Snorting, Brom looked up, seeing where they were at. Both Arya and Eragon were shaking and readjusting from the mist travel. Brom used the chance to get to know his surroundings. Percy had brought them straight in, and there, behind a barred cage, was his stepson, sleeping in chains. He was ragged, breathing shallowly, unaware of their presence, quite bruised, as if he had been tortured, which he probably had been. Both of his hands were wrapped. Brom felt his heart cry, though he did his best to retain his emotions. It wouldn't do any good to show it.

Immediately going to open the cell, Percy held him back. Then, with a wave of his hand, the prince mist traveled Murtagh out of the chains. Kneeling down, he summoned some water out of nowhere, and, closing his eyes, immediately began healing his wounds.

By this time, Eragon and Arya were recovered. They both walked over to him, Arya's eyes wide as she watched Percy heal Murtagh. That's right, she wasn't awake and aware when Percy had healed her. "How?" she asked as Murtagh's wounds, that were caused by magic, disappeared effortlessly.

Percy said nothing, continuing to work. A moment later, though still somewhat bruised, but looking a lot better, Murtagh startled awake. As he tried to sit up, Percy held him back. "Let me work on you a bit more."

Eyes looking around the room, Murtagh took in everybody, especially Brom. His eyes seemed to brim with emotion briefly before looking away, clearly holding it in. Then Percy picked him up.

Percy easily held the weak Murtagh in his arms, holding him bridle style. "All right," he said to everyone. "Everyone grab on. It's time to get out of here."

Dread filled Brom at what they were about to face. He didn't look forward to being nauseated again. But, as they all moved to get out of there, he was surprised at Murtagh's sudden protests. "No, no! I can't leave!"

"Why?" Arya asked. "We went through all this trouble to get you! As it is, we don't know when the king will arrive!"

Percy rolled his eyes. "He won't," he reassured them. "I've made sure that the king doesn't even know we're here."

"How?" Arya demanded in disbelief.

"The mist," Percy was vague, and wouldn't answer after that.

Murtagh trembled. Weakly unwrapping his left hand Brom's eyes widened slightly when he saw the gedway ignasia. So an egg had hatched for him.

When they all say the symbol, they were in complete understanding. "Thorn," Murtagh whispered. "He won't let me see him until I swear allegiance to him. He tortures him daily. If I leave..."

Everyone exchanged glances. The game had changed. Even Arya wouldn't object to rescuing the dragon. "What now?" Eragon asked. "We can't leave him!"

"We won't!" Arya reassured him.

Percy seemed to be thinking quickly. Apparently, he hadn't anticipated this either. Apparently his gods, or rather his family, had kept him out of the loop, if Brom could make a guess based on things that had happened. That was if his godly family knew at all and he was betting they did. What were they playing at?

Turning to Brom, Percy stated, "I can get the dragon out with mist travel. It won't be a problem for me to maneuver around the castle unseen. If I asked you, Eragon, and Arya to take Murtagh out, would you?"

Arya seemed miffed that Percy had turned to Brom as the leader of the group. However, he knew she wouldn't object as Brom was older than her. That, and it was merely because it was Percy requesting it that she seemed miffed. Part of Brom wondered if she and Percy would ever get along. But, his primary focus was on his stepson at the moment.

Nodding, Brom acknowledged. He took Murtagh in his arms, surprised at the weight. Murtagh was unconscious again now.

The boy had grown since he'd seen him in Selena's lap. She'd let him hold him once. Murtagh had been such a curious youngster, and he'd been surprised that Murtagh didn't seem to remember these things, the tender moments they'd had when he was young, back when Murtagh thought he was just the castle gardener. "What's your plan?" he asked Percy.

"Meet up where we left," Percy replied. "As long as we're together we'll pass by others unnoticed. I've made sure of it. But, when we separate, beware that that protection will leave."

"Understood," Brom said. He and Arya exchanged looks. "We'll have to use magic, potentially." He glanced at his son. Unlike Percy, Eragon hadn't minded being trained in magic. But he wasn't so sure that his son was ready to take on such an endeavor, especially where they were outnumbered.

"The southwest gates," Arya suggested. "I've studied the maps of Ileria. Based on sources from the Varden, that may be our only route to escape. Just one problem, how are we going to escape through the guards unnoticed? Galbatorix is powerful. I have no doubt that whatever Percy is doing with this "mist" is working, otherwise the king would be here already, and he's not. But, once we're out of protection? What then?"

Percy turned away, going towards the door. He seemed to be in deep thought. At that point, Eragon pitched, "Wouldn't it be safer to go together to get the dragon?"

"Dragons are big," Percy pitched at the door. "My cousin, Nico, could, with shadow travel. Hazel could. But I'm not at that point yet. Nor is Jason or Thalia, for that matter."

"Which leaves that out of the question," Arya commented. "Pity, because as much as I hated it, I was going to say this mist travel was useful. I've never seen anything like it before."

Brom was in thought. "Are there any other methods you could use?" he proposed. He was the son of a god, after all. However, it had never occurred to him, until now, that perhaps Percy was still learning to use his vast powers, as powerful as he was. But, was there another way that he had experience with?

Percy shook his head, still looking out the narrow slot through the door to the dungeon. "I and others like me are also able to get from place to place instantaneously, no matter how distant our heritage-" he paused, cutting himself off. Brom got the hint: no matter their distant relation to the gods as descendants. "...If we learn how," he continued, and Arya seemed upset as she knew Percy was hiding something. "But, we're not able to transport others. Just ourselves."

"Heritage?" Arya questioned, picking up on the vital clue. But Brom understood. The children and descendants of the gods could get from place to place instantly once they learned how, but they couldn't bring anyone else. Apparently, Percy's mist travel, which enabled him to bring others, was limited to him.

So, they were back to the table. "The southwest gates are still our best option," Arya pointed out. She was grim. "It looks like we'll have to fight our way out."

"What if," Percy proposed, turning back to them, "I create a distraction?"

Everyone frowned. But, it would turn attention away. "What did you have in mind?" Eragon asked. And at that moment, his eyes brightened. "Breaking out Thorn would be something big! Especially if everyone knew you did it! I think the king would pay more attention if Thorn got out!"

Brom was happy with his son. It was a good idea.

Percy seemed pleased as well, and Eragon beamed as Percy's gaze was full of praise. "Well done, Eragon," he murmured. He nodded his approval. "I have ways of finding out where the dragon is. I believe he's in a cell on the other end of the castle." Closing his eyes, Brom saw Percy concentrate. "Near another dragon," he frowned.

"Shruikan," Arya confirmed, and she seemed a bit wary and cautious.

Turning back, Percy replied, "It looks like we'll have to part once we get out of the dungeons, unfortunately. Rather, I'll go with you part of the ways and then backtrack, that way you have as much protection as possible. Meet me by Saphira and Anaklusmos."

Brom nodded. Then, Brom watched as Percy blasted the door. It was still incredible that no one came after them.

Situating Murtagh to where he rode piggy back, like when the boy was younger, he followed Percy.

It was amazing. Even Arya was marveling as they walked by servants and guards, soldiers, and even magicians, who gave them no heed. Clearly they were not invisible, for people moved around them.

They went down a fair ways, in the hallways. A story below them was where the southwest gates were. Perhaps they could hide among the crowd as they exited. However, with the inspections to get out of the city, it was unlikely they'd leave without a fight. Arya glanced at him, the approval given.

Currently, there were no guards present as they were undoubtedly in a break between the guard routines. It wouldn't last long, though.

Percy turned to them. "You'll be on you're own, after this. I suggest you move quickly."

Brom nodded, and then Percy disappeared in a puff of water vapor that dissipated and was gone.

Arya eyed where Percy had been. "Admittedly, I can't help but admit that I'm somewhat glad we won't be leaving Uru'baen that way."

"Same," Eragon agreed with a shiver.

They carefully made their way downstairs, and when they saw a few people in cloaks, Arya knocked them out with magic. Then, they hid the unconscious individuals. Taking the cloak's, they covered themselves, Brom making sure that Murtagh was completely encompassed by the cloak on his back, unseen. Then Eragon pulled up the hood for him.

Slipping into the crowd, they anxiously waited in line as the line moved passed the guards who were inspecting everybody. "Brom," Eragon whispered. "There's no way we're going to get out unnoticed."

"I know," Brom whispered, but was worried about their conversation being overheard. "Be quiet for now, Eragon. Wait until we're out of the city."

The line moved forward more and more.

Finally, it was there turn and they were in front of the full plated guards.

"Halt!" the guards demanded.

Then, one of the guards turned to Brom, a saddistic smile on his face.

"Take off your cloak."

 **I hope you liked this latest chapter.**

 **Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8: SPQR

**I don't own Percy Jackson or the Inheritance Cycle.**

Chapter Eight: SPQR

(Brom Point of View)

"Take off your cloak."

Brom was reluctant. He knew this would expose Murtagh. 'It's now or never,' he thought.

Making a move, pretending to begin to take his cloak off, he sudden thrust his hand out. "Jierda!"

Chaos erupted. There were shouts to get magicians down at the gate, and suddenly, Eragon had Zar'roc and began fighting. Occasionally, he would cast a spell or two. But it was still uncontrolled. Arya, on the other hand, was using spells and her bow whenever she could.

They were just about out the gateway when suddenly chaos erupted. Brom glanced behind him briefly after hearing a loud boom to see smoke rising from the far end of the city. No doubt it was Percy.

During the brief distraction, Arya, Eragon, and Brom managed to break away and run. But, before they could get out, Eragon screamed as he was stabbed in the gut, and Brom was wounded in the thigh.

It was pure adrenaline that kept them running. But, they were grateful when, somewhat away from the city, Saphira flew down. She was in worry about her rider, but Arya quickly put her hands to the gut, tempering the wound with some healing. Saphira relaxed.

Depositing Murtagh and Eragon on Saphira's saddle, knowing that she could only take the two of them, Brom instructed Saphira, 'Fly.'

'But what about the two of you?' Saphira was worried. 'Anaklusmos is helping Percy move the other dragon. He's too exhausted to mist travel anyone else. He couldn't take him very far.'

Brom shook his head. 'Fly!' he commanded. 'Don't worry about us!'

Saphira was reluctant, but she took off.

Arya and Brom looked at each other, weapons still out. There were people coming after them. "Guess we'll have to fight," Arya concluded.

Brom nodded. They both ran, Arya keeping at Brom's pace. At the very least, they could get some distance between them.

They made it to the treeline when the soldiers caught up to them. A fierce fight broke out, and Brom received more wounds. Casting more spells, he and Arya managed to get away further. But the guards pursued.

Suddenly, some magicians showed up. Spells began being cast back and forth. It wasn't good. They were surrounded.

Then, there were screams from the soldiers, and thunder was heard. Lightning struck several soldiers, to both of their surprise.

A group of young women, whose faces were completely covered, showed up. They brandished bows that were so beautiful and foreign. Arrows were shot, and soldiers went down. They moved with such inhuman speed, grace, and agility, that even an elf couldn't compete.

The leading girl, probably only fifteen, and by far the oldest, held out her hand. Lightning issued from her, and several soldiers went down. When the magicians turned to her, they cast several Jierda spells, which had no affect.

Seeing the power of these young girls, the soldiers began fleeing. When they were gone, Arya and Brom panting, but these girls unaffected, Brom said to the older girl, "You're quite brave, taking on an army like that."

"Excuse me, _**male**_?" The girl rounded on her, and suddenly the bows were pointed at him. The girl took off her mask and hood, revealing bright, sky blue eyes that gleamed with fury. Her black hair waved in the wind. "Are you saying that girls are _**weak**_ , male?"

Brom held up his hands, but Arya suddenly intervened. "I don't believe that was his intention at all," she informed the powerful girl, somewhat wary of her temper.

The girl snorted and the bows were lowered. "It better not have been," she muttered. Then, she began shaking her head. "Di immortals, Percy! What have you gotten yourself into? What made you include this company?"

At this point, Brom was fairly sure he was dealing with someone that was divine. He and Arya exchanged glances. The girls were dressed strangely, like Percy was. "Are you a princess?" Arya asked cautiously.

"Of course!" the female snapped, and she began walking away. Arya and Brom followed, Brom somewhat wary. Suddenly, he was beginning to appreciate Percy more, as this girl seemed to have more of a temper. And he didn't want to offend someone who was potentially part god, especially after his encounter with the god Triton.

The girls were glaring at him, but not Arya. Even the leader seemed reluctant. "My lady has commanded that I take you, worthless male, to Percy." Annoyed, Brom followed them.

They traveled for some time, the girls not bothering to slow down despite the fact that Brom was injured. When they finally saw the wounded Thorn in the distance, sleeping, and an exhausted Anaklusmos, who had no doubt had to lift a heavy Thorn, and Saphira, Brom was overjoyed.

Percy, who was knelt beside the now healed Murtagh and Eragon, looked up when he saw them arrive. But everyone could tell he was exhausted, in more than one way. However, he quickly hid it.

"Percy!" the leader demanded, stalking up to him when they were still a fairly good amount away. Murtagh winced in some fear when he saw the temperamental leader of the girl gang. Stopping in front of Percy, the girl demanded, "You had better explain what you're doing with company such as **_that_**." She pointed at Brom.

To his surprise, Percy kept his cool. Apparently they knew each other. Percy sighed and glanced at Brom. "What did he do, Thalia?"

Thalia. So this was the one cousin that Percy had mentioned a few times before.

Thalia still seemed miffed. "He seemed to imply that girls were unfit for warfare!"

"I didn't-" Brom stepped forward, protesting, but Percy's glare silenced Brom. He got the hint. Percy needed to take care of this himself.

Turning back to his cousin, Percy replied, "I'll talk with him, Thalia. I'll do my best to keep him out of you and the others' hair."

"You'd better," Thalia glared and she stalked off, the other girls behind him, throwing glares at Brom, Eragon, and Murtagh. They set up camp several hundred yards away from them, glaring at him, Eragon, and Murtagh the whole time.

Murtagh seemed intimidated, which was unusual. "What's with them?" he asked Percy.

Percy laughed some. "Ah, my cousin, Thalia! You see, Lady Artemis's hunters are an all female girls' club that doesn't exactly like the opposite gender."

"Ah," Brom nodded. Now he knew why Percy wanted to handle it himself. He knew how to deal with these hunters. And that also explained why they were only throwing glares at the men, or males, as she had called them. Except for Percy, that was. He hadn't noticed that before, that it was just the men.

Percy turned to Brom. "Best not to mess with them. You don't want to end up a tree. Or worse."

Arya seemed to find the comment odd, and Brom was immediately shivered thinking of them. He didn't want to find out what "worse" was. It was no wonder they treated Arya better. She was female.

Anaklusmos, was in deep sleep beside Thorn. Murtagh was beginning to fall asleep again. Even Percy seemed exhausted. He yawned and went to lay beside his dragon. "Get some rest," he ordered. "The hunters won't stay forever. We need to be out by morning, so they can return where they came from."

One last glance at the hunters told Brom that he wanted them gone as soon as possible.

He obeyed Percy.

(The next day)

The hunters weren't very friendly. In fact, they refused to eat with the _**males**_. In fact, the only male they seemed to be on good terms with was Percy.

After they ate, Brom gently told Murtagh he wanted to check his mind to make sure that Galbatorix didn't do anything without him knowing, such as swearing oaths of fealty. Murtagh grimaced, but to his surprise he nodded and didn't resist. It was progress. Brom was relieved when he saw that both Murtagh and the dragon were free of bonds.

Thorn was still somewhat weak, but he could walk on land. That limited them to ground movement. And so, Percy mounted his pegasus, Thalia on another pegasus. They rode side by side. Meanwhile, Eragon and Murtagh were on Saphira while Arya and Brom were on Anaklusmos.

For most of the day, they rode together, the dragons walking on land, Percy and Thalia talking in their own tongue that none but him and the hunters could understand. At midday, they stopped to eat, safe. Brom had no doubt that Percy and Thalia were keeping them concealed from the king.

It was sometime after that, that, despite not liking men, the hunters ate in the same place. Arya, being ever curious, decided to strike up a conversation with Thalia. Brom was careful to avoid conversing, and apparently Eragon and Murtagh had gotten the hint.

"You're the daughter of a king and queen?" Arya touched the issue.

Thalia raised an eyebrow. "And it matters?"

"You're people must be from so far away," Arya pushed.

Thalia snorted. She knew what the elf was trying to do. "If you want to know something, just ask," she was bold.

Seeing that she was straight to the point, Arya changed her tactics and complied. "Where you're from, why do your people want to interfere here?"

"Because Unulukuna was loaned this world by the Olympians," another girl piped up.

"Simply put," Thalia started fidgeting with one of her knives in an almost intimidating manner. "They're term of rent is up."

Percy chuckled at the way it was put and nodded his acknowledgement.

"But we're talking about mythical figures," Arya pointed out.

Everybody froze. Brom stiffened. She had gone to far, and from what he had seen of this Thalia, she was less tolerant than Percy.

Thalia's eyes were icy. "Oh?" her voice was cold. The hunters seemed to be in an aggressive mood all of a sudden. "Are they?"

It was a challenge that Brom was hoping Arya wouldn't take. Even she knew she was in hot water.

Unfortunately, Thalia seemed to push it. "Who controls the forces of nature, tell me?" was the girl's dangerous voice.

"It can be explained by science," Arya was careful.

"And when things _**can't**_ be explained by science?" Thalia pushed. "What then?"

Arya was carefully silent. Thalia continued to press further. "Care to challenge the gods _**elf**_? Dare to tell **_my father_** that? _**Percy's**_ father may be lenient, but _**mine**_ won't be."

"You're kingly father?" Arya was wary.

Thalia's eyes flashed. " _ **My father is more than a king**_!" she hissed. "He is Zeus, god-king of the sky, lightning, weather, honor and justice, king of Olympus!"

Arya paled. Brom had been right. She was one of those demigods or legacies. Thalia was still reeling, moreover. Percy appeared calm. "You are in the presence of the _**divine**_ , Arya! And you should respect that! Percy is the son of Poseidon, god-king of the seas, earthshaker, stormbringer, droughts, floods, father of horses, king of the oceans! We are **_no mere mortals_**! And many of my hunters are **_exactly_** like me and Percy, part of the **_divine_**!"

At this point, Percy appeared rather annoyed. He must not to have wanted to pull that card. "Well, the cat is out of the bag," he commented dryly. Thalia made no comment to him.

Looking back and forth, sudden understanding swept over Arya, and though she seemed conflicted, she appeared to be in acceptance. "Guntera was really there," she murmured, finally convinced of the existence of gods. "What will the elves do?!"

After that, the hunters began chatting one to another, Percy joining in with a cheer. Arya got up and walked a ways away. Brom went to follow her. When they were far enough away, Arya asked, her back to him, in front of him, "Did you know, Brom?"

Brom went to stand beside her. "If it helps, I found out in a lot worse way than you did. A god actually threatened me."

"Ah," Arya nodded, and he could tell that the reveal was taking a toll on her. She sighed, eyes closed. " ** _That's_** why Percy could pull off what he did at the Varden. _**That's**_ why you kept warning me to be careful of him. And I didn't listen."

"He has clout," Brom confirmed.

Shortly after they finished eating, they began moving again. About the afternoon time, the hunters finally bid farewell. Then, without a trace, a shimmering giant wall of light was formed, and the hunters leaped through, leaving Alagaesia.

Percy watched them leave, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to the group. He glanced in a concerned manner at Murtagh. Shifting his gaze to Brom, and then to Eragon, and then finally, to Arya, for the first time he approached Arya first. "Much as I hate to say this," he admitted. "But I think I agree with you for once. Eragon and Murtagh should go to your people. There's something I have to do first, and with Murtagh and Eragon still recovering, they shouldn't be coming. What's more, it may not be safe, anyways, for any to come with me."

"It's this Gaea?" Arya concluded.

Percy nodded. "The primordial goddess is dangerous. My... great grandmother... isn't exactly friendly. Whatever of the family that was left behind... well... let's just have this stay a family spat, shall we? No need to involve others if we can."

Arya hardened her chin. Now that she knew what Percy was, she knew she was going to have to show more respect. He had the right to command even kings and nations, based on what she read in religion, since gods could command kings. Percy would naturally inherit that honor, as would his children and descendants. But there was something she wanted to see first, if she could convince him of.

"I still have a lot to learn," Arya concluded, humbling herself. "But, with respect, I think there are many of us who would love to journey with you, dangerous or not."

Percy shook his head. "You have no idea how dangerous the godly realm can be."

"I know," Arya admitted first hand. She glanced over at the others. "But you have their loyalty and friendship. Are you going to turn it away?"

Percy had a sad look. "Arya Drottingu," she was surprised that he knew and used her title. "That's **_exactly_** why I don't want them to come. I've... lost friends and family before. I don't want that to happen to them."

Backing off, knowing that his mind was made up, Arya nodded. "At least come with me to the elves first," she offered. "You and I got off on a rough start, Prince Percy."

Percy grimaced when he called her that. Brom continued watching, knowing that Percy hated being addressed as a prince, and found that amusing. But, Arya continued, smiling slightly as she saw his weakness. "That said, the least I can do is to get you on the right start with the elves. I know how to navigate my way among my own people."

Seemingly considering, weighing his options, he finally nodded his approval. "Very well," he conceded. "But I do need to check this out soon. With a possible Titan about to break loose... well... I should investigate sooner rather than later."

With that, they changed directions, heading towards the elvish homeland.

(Percy Point of View)

Ever since the elf found out his identity, she seemed rather friendlier. While things were still awkward between them, at the same time they were getting used to each other. Eventually, the elf asked about the mist.

Percy wasn't sure how to explain it. It was night time. So, he nodded to Murtagh. Lifting up what would appear to the elf as a rock, he asked Murtagh, "What do you see?"

"A stick," Murtagh replied puzzled.

The elf seemed confused, as did Brom and Eragon. Percy smiled. "He's right," he murmured, lifting the mist so that they could see that it was indeed a stick. Then it was quickly replaced as they all marveled. Nodding to Murtagh, he replied, "Murtagh is one of the few mortals who can see through the mist. The mist keeps things shielded, it keeps mortals, and immortals in Arya's case, from being able to see the divine and godly things as they truly are. As a demigod, I've been able to learn to manipulate the mist, and can see through it, just as even descendants of the gods can do. It wasn't easy, I'll give you that, but my teacher, Chiron, finally taught me how to manipulate it. That's how I kept Galbatorix from noticing us."

Though she was still confused, Arya nodded. "Would there be elves who could see past it?"

"Probably," Percy concluded. "Granted, Murtagh's gift is rare. It's not even passed on in families. It's quite random."

The topic then changed. She seemed curious as ever. "So you've inherited some godly traits, apparently. But what else can you do?"

Grimacing, Percy replied, "Not even I am sure of what all I can do. I keep discovering. And sometimes, the things I discover, are quite annoying."

"Such as," Arya probed.

"Such as," Percy concluded, looking at Murtagh. "When I randomly fall into other peoples dreams, and sometimes my enemies. My father is unpredictable, so some of my gifts are... unpredictable."

"Ah," Arya replied. She sighed, looking in the distance. It wouldn't be long before the entered the elvish forest. "I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to my people. The only thing I can think of is to use your title as the son of a god."

"Don't!" Percy protested, shaking his head. "I don't want to be addressed as Prince Percy all the time!"

Blackjack snorted. He heard briefly, 'Emperor Percy!' Then the pegasus was silent again.

Arya seemed amused briefly. Then, she was serious again. "It's going to have to come out at some point."

"Later, rather than sooner," Percy pushed.

Eragon then interrupted, a question on his face. "What else can you conceal with the mist?" he asked.

Hesitating, Percy lifted his sleeve and dropped the mist. They all stared in awe at his tattoo. "What does it say?" Eragon asked.

"SPQR," Percy explained. "Senatus Populusque Romanus. It's for service in the Roman army." When he saw their confusion, he added, "An army of demigods and legacies." They nodded, understanding the meaning.

"There are more?" Arya was intrigued. "How many more?"

"Many," Percy confirmed. "Let's just say the gods keep having children with mortals. And then, if we survive, we have children."

"If you survive?" Murtagh was intrigued. He seemed wary and alarmed for some reason.

Percy grimaced. "We're built to fight more dangerous things. If we know how, we can live indefinitely, as long as we don't have battles. However, it's not uncommon for us to be killed off at young ages. The godly realm is... well... dangerous."

The group seemed to be in deep thought. "No wonder you seem so mature for your age," Brom muttered. "No wonder you said you'd led armies already."

"It's not uncommon among us," Percy confirmed. "We fight for survival, often."

Silence reigned. After, a curious Arya piped up. "As a dragon rider you should be able to do magic."

Wincing, Percy shook his head. "Able, and should, as in the proper sense, are two different things."

The elf tilted her head in curiosity.

Percy continued. "I can use Alagaesian magic, yes. However, godly magic, which all demigods and legacies can use, is much more powerful. Unfortunately, my godly brother Triton caused some, ah, trouble on Olympus, and that's put him, and thus all of us at the sea, at odds against Hectate, the goddess of magic. Family politics can be rather... nasty to say the least. My uncle once threatened to bolt me down from the sky with lightning if he ever caught me in his sky realm again. I get away with it by being a pegasus, since a pegasus is my father's realm. But my great aunt Hectate? Nah! She's a bit angry at the moment. I don't dare go into her realm until things settle down, whether godly or mortal magic."

"Looks like magic is off the list for you, then," Murtagh commented.

"For now."

At this moment, Brom sighed. "I was able to get leave from my post because Murtagh is my stepson. With Ajihad's death, everything has changed. I left the Varden in the hands of the council, but I don't trust them entirely. I need to get back to the Varden and reorganize it to where we can be effective against Galbatorix."

Everyone was solemn. Despite the fact that he didn't want him to leave, Percy knew it was inevitable. Besides, Brom knew that Eragon in Murtagh were in good hands.

Brom looked at the two brothers. "I'll be leaving you with Arya and Percy tomorrow. Eragon, you'll gain much more favor if you use you real name, you're **_full_** name. Eragon Bromson. Murtagh, I have a request for you, strange as it may sound. But it will be better in the long run. Regardless of whether or not you call yourself Morzonson, make sure you attach to it that you're the stepson of Brom. Though, if you wanted to be adopted, I wouldn't mind, and I'm sure Selena wouldn't mind. But at the very least calling yourself my stepson might dispel some of the suspicion you're bound to face."

Arya nodded in approval, and Murtagh looked a bit perplexed, like he wasn't sure whether or not he should, almost like he wasn't sure he was ready to be acknowledged the son or stepson of someone who wasn't Morzon. He seemed conflicted, like he felt unworthy of it. "It would be wise," Arya counseled Murtagh. "At least for political necessity. Besides, you have Brom's approval. That's the highest compliment."

Murtagh seemed to consider, then he nodded.

"I'd be honored."

(Anaklusmos Point of View)

She wasn't sure what she thought of the red dragon. At first, she dared to tell herself that he was hideous. She didn't miss how the red dragon, or rather "Thorn", was eyeing her and Saphira. He was interested. Except, he wasn't sure which dragon he was interested in.

Percy seemed to be amused every time these thoughts surfaced. 'What?' she would snap at him.

Percy, who was currently awake, shook his head. 'You know you like him. You're in denial.'

'I do not!' she protested. 'I don't like that red dragon.'

'Then why did you rescue him?' Percy was a bit too innocent. 'You towed him several miles,' he pointed out.

Her tale lashed. She didn't like the red dragon. 'A favor,' was all she would tell her rider.

She was too good for the red dragon. She was created by the Queen of the Sea directly! Who else had that honor? Certainly not that red dragon. Certainly not Saphira...

Saphira. She had a competitor. Say the red dragon liked Saphira... Saphira, who was a mere dragon, not some majestic creation of the sea... more than her.

Impossible! Outrageous! **_She_** was the daughter of the sea not that **_other_** dragon!

And no, she did not like the red dragon.

Thorn looked at her. She growled.

She was too good for him.

(Murtagh Point of View)

It was awkward between Percy and Murtagh at first. Brom had departed the previous day. The red rider was recovered. Unfortunately, they were both subject to knowing that Thorn had taken a liking for Anaklusmos, with a jealous Saphira as she watched him.

As they journeyed to the elven homeland, Thorn kept trying to get close to Percy's dragon. Several times, she snapped at him. Eventually, Percy confronted him. "Hey," the demigod said, running his hand through his hair in a awkward manner. "Do you mind asking Thorn to back off Anaklusmos a little? It's... well... getting difficult to deal with the mind talk she's putting out. She keeps complaining to me."

"Um..." Murtagh wasn't sure how to respond to his king. It wasn't like Thorn was apt to listen to him, now that he'd taken a liking to the older dragon. "I can try..."

Meanwhile, Saphira kept trying to attract Thorn's attention. Talk about awkward. It wasn't that much later that his little brother came up to him. "Do you mind asking Thorn if he will pay a bit more attention to Saphira?" Eragon asked. "She feels ignored by the only dragon company she has."

"Um..." Murtagh trailed off, caught in the middle of everything. "I can try?"

It didn't turn out well. Thorn, as usual, ignored him. Anaklusmos snapped at him and they began fighting some. Meanwhile, he got a little too close to Saphira and tried to strike up a friendly conversation. But the blue dragon, who was jealous, wasn't going to have it. Instead, she snapped at him as well, causing an altercation between Saphira and Anaklusmos, as both fought over Thorn.

That evening, the rider's dragons wouldn't talk to one another. Arya seemed a bit amused. Unfortunately, she wasn't much help with the dragons. "They have to work it out," she said.

Anaklusmos eyed Murtagh and growled at him.

(Percy Point of View)

The dragons reached a psuedo treaty in the middle of the next day. Mainly, it was this: stay by your rider, or else. Anaklusmos kept next to him as he rode Blackjack. They were following the elf on the ground.

'You know,' he thought to his dragon. 'In many ways, you started all this.'

'Did not!' she snapped at him. 'Why would you even say that?!'

Chuckling some, Percy pointed out, 'If you would just admit your feelings, then maybe Saphira would get over it.'

'I have no feelings!'

'No?' Percy challenged. 'Even humans will get jealous if the one they love hangs out with someone else.'

'I have no feelings!' Anaklusmos snapped again.

That's when Percy decided to push some. 'So... if Saphira and Thorn were coupled off...' Anaklusmos growled. Percy shook his head some, amused. 'That's what I thought!'

The dragon muttered incessantly and incoherently after that, refusing to admit anything. Her ocean green and blue scales gleamed in the sunlight, and as her muscles rippled, it was like waves of the sea. In his opinion, she was prettier than Saphira, being made by the sea itself.

But she was a proud dragon. There was no denying that. He remembered when she first hatched. He remembered raising her, feeding her from the sea with fish, crab, and other things. He remembered when she first spread her wings, attempting to fly, having the appearance of the majesty of the ocean. And she always had the feeling of the sea with her. Who wouldn't be attracted to that?

Apparently Thorn was.

By midday, they'd reached the borders of the forest. At first, Arya was confused. "Why didn't he appear?" she murmured aloud, and then glanced at Percy. She seemed debatable for a moment, then finally decided that somehow Percy was at fault for whatever had not happen. But she was not angry. "From here on," Arya turned back and warned them. "You won't be able to fly until we cross the border. The magic wards prevent it." Her eyes flickered to Percy. "I'm not sure about you, though, with your godly talents."

Percy shrugged. It was mute point. He had to follow the elf, anyways.

They journeyed into the forest.

That night, as they were around a campfire, there were still no elves despite Arya in sight. Percy thought into the prophecy. He knew he was going to have to go where Durza had gone. 'The solitary daughter of Gaea stirs,' he thought. But his mind quickly went to another line that sent even more chills. 'Dragons blood sacrificed to bring the glory of the dawn.' He still hadn't told Anaklusmos about that one. What did it mean? Was he or any of his companions to loose their life partner? 'The dark king will rise.' Obviously that was Galbabtorix. It had to be. And yet...

There was more to the prophecy than met the eye. Those particular lines, though, chilled him the most. 'Dark king,' he thought. 'Am I the dark king, or is Nico? What about Galbatorix? Could it be Galbatorix?'

Anaklusmos, who was humming softly, curled her tail around him. He was leaning into her side. 'Something wrong?' she asked him.

Percy shook his thought. 'A theory,' he murmured.

'Of what?'

Putting some thought, he replied, 'When I read the prophecy, clearly there is much in there about me, a prince, defeating Galbatorix. But, after it mentions Galbatorix's defeat and my crowning, it mentions a dark king.'

'You sure it's not Galbatorix?' Anaklusmos questioned him.

Percy shrugged. 'I don't think so. It calls him the king in black.'

'And that's not the same thing?

'I don't think so,' Percy considered. 'For one, when I talked to Triton the other day, he called **_me_** the dark king, clothed with death.'

A chill went down both of their spines. 'I don't understand,' Anaklusmos said. 'You're supposed to **_save_** Alagaesia.'

'And yet, it says that the dark king, clothed with death, the sea shall obey him. Theoretically, it could be Nico, the Ghost king. But, after I conquer Alagaesia, **_I'll_** be king. So, how could it be that? I'm the prince of the prophecy, but not after Galbatorix is defeated. I'm a king then, so I'd be a king of prophecy. And yet, dark king could mean many things. Often times, prophecies don't turn out as we thought they would.'

His dragon seemed amused. 'Then dark, as in dark skinned?'

'No,' Percy wasn't so sure of that. Perhaps dark wasn't necessarily indicative of evil, though. 'I guess I'll have to wait and see.'

The forest seemed haunted that night.

(The Next Day)

Arya was insistent on teach Percy, Murtagh, and Eragon the customs of the riders. She said it was to impress the Queen. But, when she saw that Percy knew the manners, he being taught by his godly father, she was impressed.

"Considering your gods, I didn't think they would do this," the elf commented.

Percy shrugged, exchanging a glance with his dragon. "They said it might come in handy."

Arya frowned. "Then why did you never use it?" It was slightly accusatory, and yet at the same time it was careful, like she wasn't wanting to offend.

"Well, I was among the humans, wasn't I? If I'm among the humans, I'll use their customs that I approve of. Same thing among the elves. Besides, I was told to never degenerate my status as the son of deity and a prince and future king."

Arya wasn't quite sure how to answer that one. She was silent after that.

They journeyed deeper into the forest. Once or twice, Thorn tried to get close to Anaklusmos, only to be snapped at. Percy couldn't help shaking his head. When they were resting midday, he finally mentioned to her, 'You know, you might try to get closer to Thorn before Saphira snags him.' Anaklusmos growled at him. 'Denial!' he said to her. Annoyed, she spread her wings and flew.

Percy didn't miss the glare that Saphira was sending his dragon's way. She talked with her rider, who turned red faced in embarrassment, and then that was that.

Later that day, Murtagh took him and Eragon aside. "Okay, something has to be done," he said. "Thorn's actions are making it to where I can't concentrate. That, and all this bickering back and forth is getting to me."

Considering, Percy said, "Well, I'm not the one that has a crush on one of the female dragons."

"He feels left out! He feels outcast!" Murtagh threw his hands in the air, like he was beside himself.

At that point, they all sobered up, realizing how serious it was. Things were silent for a moment. "I'll talk to her," Percy promised, referring to his dragon. "But in return, you've got to tell your dragon to stop making advances to my dragon."

"That might help with Saphira," Eragon admitted. "I mean, having some boundaries. She's jealous. I think she's feeling left out, like she'll be the only dragon without a mate."

"So, boundaries," Percy agreed. "That will make the situation much easier."

"Okay, okay!" Murtagh threw his hand in the air again. He was growling. "I'll talk to Thorn." And he didn't seem too happy about it.

Later that night, when Anaklusmos landed, Percy took her aside. Then, getting on her saddle, he decided to ride her, one of the rare times he would, considering his uncle. When they were a ways away, Percy started the conversation. 'So... Murtagh and I were talking.'

Anaklusmos tensed. He heard Blackjack, who was listening in on the conversation, chuckle. 'See, I told you!' Blackjack told Anaklusmos. The dragon growled, taking a sharp right, yet being careful with her rider.

'Say what you want!' the dragon snapped.

Percy carefully thought before wording his words. 'Murtagh's going to talk to Thorn. But, in exchange, can you try to be friends with the other two? Thorn feels really left out. So does Saphira.'

'Me?' she scoffed. 'Go down to _**their**_ level? I'm made by the divine!'

'And so were their ancestors, long ago,' Percy pointed out.

'But I'm closer!'

Huffing in impatience, Percy argued back, 'You're the only one that's close to the divine when it comes to creation, Anaklusmos. But, you have to face it, there's probably not going to be any like you unless the gods step in. So, you need to make friends. Even I must make friends with the humans and dwarves. You can do it without your position being denigrated.'

'Fine!' the dragon snapped. 'As long as I get the honor and respect that I deserve as being a creature created by the divine!'

'Okay then,' Percy concluded. That was reasonable. And, it was probably the best he'd get from her. After all, she _**was**_ a direct creation of a goddess, and as such she was deserving of greater respect. He couldn't deny her that. That was probably why they worked so well together: Percy was divine and she was created by the divine.

The rest of their flight was rather peaceful, the two of them pondering.

When they landed, Percy was tired. Yawning, he waited until his dragon curled up. Then, they both went to sleep together.

(Eragon Point of View)

The next day, they were to enter the elvish capital. Eragon had to admit, he was nervous. He didn't know what they would think about him, and he was rather worried about his half-brother. That was to say nothing of his lord and king, Percy. From what he understood, elves tended to be atheists. How were they going to react to the son of a god walking around?

That led his thoughts to the god Triton that had appeared before his father. When it came to it, he knew these were gods they **_didn't_** want to irk. That meant that if they couldn't convince the elves...

He didn't know what would happen.

It was at this moment that he found himself wishful that Brom... or rather his father (he was still having a hard time remembering to tell himself to call him father), was near. That said, he felt comfortable that his lord and Prince Percy was here. He felt safe with him around, especially since Percy was a formidable warrior. That, and he had the blessings of the gods on him.

Percy sighed, riding on Blackjack. The winged horse-like thing came to halt. They were going up some pretty difficult terrain, yet unlike horses Eragon was fascinated that the winged-horse handled it with such grace and ease. Their horses occasionally struggled. And yet the winged horse was picking his way with grace and ease.

At this point, Percy was glancing at Anaklusmos. He seemed to be concentrating, a hand to his head. Arya turned around briefly, confused. Doing the best he could on Tornac, (they were glad they brought him from the Varden), Murtagh rode up to Percy. "Everything all right?" he asked.

Percy shook his head. "It's nothing," he said.

Arya looked like she wanted to say something, then thought better of it. For a brief moment, as he rode up to his Prince, Eragon thought he saw worry on Percy's face. But then it was gone.

Arya finally pitched in. "We're almost to Ellesmera."

Percy went emotionless, nodding. They continued on.

That evening, as they journeyed into a thick place with trees that had house like shapes that seemed to be growing out of them, Arya frowned. "I must have missed the celebrations," she murmured. At this, everyone eyed her curiously, but she said nothing more. Nor did Percy ask. And since Percy didn't ask, Eragon didn't think it was his place to. Saphira and the dragons landed.

There were elves everywhere. And the elves were looking at them. When Anaklusmos was spotted, though, and Percy who was in his foreign royal garb, murmurs went around. Having studied enough magic, Eragon was now able to understand them to an extent. They were curious that there was another dragon, one that they hadn't accounted for, since the third egg Galbatorix had was a different color, and Percy's strange dress.

Blackjack, who was holding Percy, stood up straight and tall. They looked at the pegasus as if he was odd. Many were looking at Arya who was bringing this strange foreigner in. But Arya didn't stop instead, signaling for them to dismount. She brought them to a large house that had branches and the tree twisted to make a seat. And sitting on that seat was an elf who looked very similar to Arya.

Arya immediately knelt, and so did the others, except Percy, who bowed his head, and had his hand over his chest, in a gesture that was not only foreign, but probably from where he came from. And it made sense. Why should the prince of a foreign kingdom kneel?

Islanzadi raised her eyebrow when she saw Percy. She seemed startled at their unexpected arrival, and Eragon got the feeling that she was usually warned ahead of time when people arrived, especially when they were heading to her capital. But, Eragon thought she was lucky, as this was probably the greatest respect she was going to get from someone who had the right to command _**her**_. The other elves looked around the room, well aware that Percy was a foreigner even to humans, and apparently thinking he didn't know the customs. But he could see the looks on some of their faces. They were apparently wondering why the others were taught, but Percy never was.

Finally, the queen turned to Arya. "I am so glad you are here! I was worried when I heard you have gone missing."

"I'm... glad you were worried, mother," Arya replied. Murtagh seemed to have a surprised look on his face when he heard this. So did Eragon. Only Percy didn't seem surprised (then again, he was the son of a god and was probably forewarned of this). Neither of them had realized she was the daughter of the elvish queen.

"You have been gone too long," the queen murmured, though her eyes flicked with curiosity and something else to Percy, who still had his head bowed. "And, I fear, we have drifted apart. But now, you are home and safe."

"I am."

Looking around the room Islanzadi motioned around them. "We all have been worried about you, in fact. But, I have sworn that I will never let anything get between us again, even if it seems trifling. Perhaps, you could forgive me?"

Arya was motionless for a second. Percy was expressionless, and Eragon was pretty sure that the Queen was trying to manipulate her daughter into forgiving her. After all, how could she say no when all the aristocrats were around?

"Yes, of course," Arya finally said, but rather slowly and carefully, for fear of offending almost, and everyone around them looked relieved. And even Eragon knew that there was nothing she could do.

There was silence once again as Islanzadi considered the new arrivals. She spent a long time looking at Percy. Finally, she was brought out of her thoughts.

"Who are these you have brought me, daughter?" Her voice was careful, but there was an edge of warning to it. Eragon didn't want to know what had irked her, but she didn't continue. "It is unlike Gilderien, who guards the borders, to let people by without warning me."

"Gilderiren never appeared," Arya was careful, also holding information back.

Raising her eyebrow, Islanzadi replied, "Oh?" Eragon wasn't sure whether the Queen believed her daughter or not. Murmurs were going on among the aristocrats. "He's never failed me before."

"I highly doubt he has," Arya agreed, and she seemed to be trying to skirt around the issue. "However... are there not more pressing issues?"

"Pressing issues," Islanzadi considered. "One of my guardians failed, and that's not a pressing issue in this time of war?"

"I don't think it's his fault," Arya was more direct. "There are simply... too many variables," and Arya glanced at Percy.

At this point, Islanzadi gave her full attention to the newcomers. When they were summoned forward, Eragon started, sensing his brother was too nervous. "Islanzadi Drotting, I am Eragon Bromson, rider of Saphira." Murmurs spread as it became known that the rider Brom had a son.

Murtagh seemed nervous, but his voice didn't quaver and was calm and firm. "Murtagh stepson of Brom."

Islanzadi seemed surprised and taken aback for a second, and all of the other aristocrats were whispering more. In fact, many were in a daze. No one had any doubt that he was Morzan's son. But the part about having some sort of familiar relationship to Brom was mind boggling to many. This was especially since out of everyone, Brom had suffered from Morzan's hand the most.

Considering silently, Islanzadi finally replied, "I never knew that Brom had even had a child with the Black Hand. Curious, how these things slipped from my knowledge."

The only one that hadn't greeted them was Percy, who now stepped forward. He raised his head to stare at Islanzadi as an equal, and he was bold as he declared, "My kingdom greets yours, Islanzadi Drotting. I am Prince Perseus, son of Poseidon, god-king of the sea, earthshaker, stormbringer, creator of horses. The sea greets you."

The whole throne room was in chaos.

(Arya Point of View)

She hadn't expected Percy to pull that card. What's more, it was making things difficult for her. Part of her was pleased that he made the reveal instead of making them guess like he'd made her guess. The other part of her wished he had kept silent and not caused such a tumult that he knew would have been caused.

Islanzadi's eyes flashed when she heard this. "Impossible!" she spat.

"I assure you, it's not," Percy replied. His voice was smooth, calm.

The aristocrats were talking, shaking their heads disapprovingly. "Son of a god? What gods?" Many were saying. Arya knew she was going to have to contain this before more angry demigods, or even worse, gods, appeared.

As the murmuring continued, Islanzadi stood up. "Everyone out!" she snapped. When they made the move to get out, Percy went as well. However, Islanzadi held him back. "Not you!" she snapped, sitting on her throne again.

Percy seemed annoyed at this point, but he obliged. When the room was clear, Arya staying because of who she was, Islanzadi studied Percy further. "Is this your idea of a stunt, human?"

Percy's eyes flashed. He spoke perfectly in the ancient language. "I'm at least half-god. Be **_careful_** how you speak to me."

"There are no gods around here," Islanzadi growled, and Percy narrowed his eyes.

"Yes? What about Eyra?"

"Nothing but mythology from our past," Islanzadi hissed.

Folding his arms, Percy had an annoyed look on his face. "I'm not sure they've appreciated the neglect your people have been giving them. But that changes nothing. The Olympians are returning anyways, and that can't be stopped. I am what I am, and I **_will_** be respected."

At this point Arya decided to step in. "Mother, I've seen things I can't explain," she whispered.

As her eyes darted her daughter, she considered. "You were held by a shade. Do you really expect me to believe that nothing happened to you?"

Her fists clenched at the nuances her mother was throwing to her, especially since she'd just given her public forgiveness, albeit not willingly. Didn't her mother want to mend their relationship?

To her surprise, when Percy saw the tension between them, his eyes softened some. He turned to the queen. "What proof do you want?"

"I doubt anything will convince me," Islanzadi was stubborn.

"Name it," Percy was serious.

The queen raised her chin. "Fine. Give me an appearance by your so called gods."

"Done!" Percy was immediate. "And let's make it official. How about I ask this to be done in front of your entire people? That way it doesn't have to be repeated."

Islanzadi scoffed. "You cannot be serious!"

"Dead serious," Percy said, turning his back to head out. When he saw them stay behind, he asked, "Are you coming?"

"Fine!" Islanzadi snapped, and she followed her daughter out.

As she walked beside them, she heard Percy mutter under his breath, "Let's hope it's not Jupiter. He's **_never_** in a good mood."

Outside, Percy was getting curious looks. Apparently, his claim about being related to gods had gone around, and many were shaking their hands.

Percy seemed to wait until a crowd gathered, and gather quickly they did. Then, he knelt and began praying, speaking in a strange language.

Just as Islanzadi was starting to get miffed because nothing happened, a shimmering gate in the sky opened with a bright city in the distance seen, and a black haired man that was twenty feet tall floated down. "Oh, great!" Percy muttered under his breath. "It just had to be Ares! It just _**had**_ to be the god of war!"

Everyone was frozen in shock, including Islanzadi, and he towered over them, now on the ground. But when Arya caught the look of his fire flamed eyes, she was dead frightened. She knew behind her, Murtagh was much calmer.

The god folded his arms, unimpressed. "What?" he addressed the Queen of the elves. "You asked for the appearance of a god for proof, and now your scared, elf?"

Percy was still kneeling, but he was bold to the god. "I was kinda hoping for Apollo or someone like him."

The god snapped around to Percy. "What? You asked for a god to prove to them, and I answered the call, cousin! You ungrateful brat! You're just like you're brother!"

Holding up his hand, Percy said, "Triton said you started it."

"Did not!" Ares snapped, and the he was gone in a flame of fire. The gate closed.

Arya couldn't stop shaking. But, she was perhaps more prepared than the rest. Controlling her emotions, she turned to Percy, curious. "He... started what?"

Shrugging, Percy replied, "Nah, Ares is just mad because his dad's angry at him. He and his cousin, my brother, got in a fight on Olympus. And... well..."

"Ah," Arya replied. She didn't pursue the topic, and instead turned to her mother, who was shaking. All the elves seemed to be in shock. "Mother?" she asked.

Finally, Islanzadi broke out of her reverie, in shock and denial, and finally, more fear. "Gods..." she murmured, loosing it. "They're... real... What are we going to do?"

Murmuring from the elves broke out. No doubt word was going to get around fast. Arya wasn't sure they were ready for a cultural revolution. "What are we going to do?" the Queen was pacing back and forth. The murmurs grew louder.

The chaos was on the verge of breaking to higher levels.

(A few hours later)

The queen had had to retire for a bit. It was a few hours of chaos. Meanwhile, more and more elves were joining in, not sure of the chaos. Many elves, Arya knew, were contacting family outside of Ellesmera and telling them what happened. All in all, Arya couldn't help but think it was a mess that they might not have a hope of untangling.

Sitting down, Murtagh huffed, "Well, now the cat's out of the bag!" At her questioningly look, Murtagh replied, "Heard the phrase from Percy."

"The cat is definitely out of the bag," Arya agreed.

Finally, after waiting for several hours, they were summoned back to the throne room. This time the aristocrats were there.

Islanzadi looked worn out. She was leaned back in her chair, hand on her head. Everyone greeted her as before, but Percy stuck to his original greeting. She was silent after this. They were the only ones allowed in the throne room, and no doubt others were waiting outside to hear what would take place.

No one spoke for a while. But then, Islanzadi addressed Percy. "You have just turned my people and everything we believe in upside down." She was silent for a long while. Then, she sat up, shaking her head. "I don't know what more needs to be said."

Arya stepped forward. "The humans and dwarves have been talking about a prophecy-"

"I know the prophecy," Islanzadi cut her off. Arya looked surprised. Finally, she looked at her daughter. Waving her hand dismissively, she replied, "Orik was sent here by the dwarves to try and reestablish relations. He would do nothing but talk of prophecy and how excited he was. Needless to say, I didn't believe it." Her eyes then came to rest on Percy. "But now... I'm not so sure anymore..."

The air was tinged with electricity in the silence that followed. Then, looking at one of the aristocrats, she murmured, "Would you mind bringing Orik in?"

The aristocrats disappeared. A moment later, he reappared with a very familiar dwarf. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "I knew you'd believe the prophecy!" He greeted Percy with respect first, since he was divine, and his face was expressionless. "But the son of a god... I wasn't expecting that... That explains why you could do sacrifice..."

"Any children or descendants of gods can sacrifice to any of the gods," Percy explained. "Priests and priestesses answer to us, as we mediate between the gods and mortals."

Orik turned to the elven Queen and greeted her next.

Sighing, Islanzadi looked at him. "Perhaps it is time that I hear the prophecy in full."

Nodding, Orik brought out a folded sheet of parchment from his tunic and began reciting the prophecy in full. But he looked at Percy when he was done. "And yet, I'm to understand that some of it was translated incorrectly?"

Percy nodded. "It should be 'the solitary daughter of Gaea stirs'."

Shaking her head while rubbing it with her hand, Islanzadi was bold, "Is there a difference?"

"Gaea is the primordial goddess who is the earth," Percy explained. "My great grandmother... is not pleasant to say the least. She's tried to kill her own children and grandchildren before. I'd...rather not have to deal with anyone who is anything like her."

"Then this is serious, that this daughter of her stirs?"

"Yes," Percy acknowledged.

There was more quietness. Islanzadi took a deep breath and let it out. "This complicates things. Considerably." She looked at her daughter. "As you said, it's more variables." She turned back to Percy. "But I have more than one question. Can you defeat Galbatorix?"

Orik stepped in before Percy could answer. "He defeated the shade with ease. I don't see why not."

"With ease?" Islanzadi seemed surprised. Arya nodded.

"He is the son of a god," Orik pointed out.

Islanzadi looked like she was reconsidering the position she was going to take in a war. If she knew her mother well enough then she knew that Islanzadi would not want to go against Percy, especially considering how powerful he was being revealed to be let alone the power of those how backed him. At this point, she would be more concerned about her people, and not having wrath turned on them.

If it came to choosing, she'd back Percy, to appease his gods, and him as a representative of his gods, and the son of a god. And at that point, Arya realized that Percy had purposefully played his card perfectly. He was getting what he wanted: the support of the elves. Islanzadi was politically maneuvered to back Percy. 'Clever,' she thought.

Sighing, Islanzadi faced Percy. She wasn't without her attempts to get what she wanted from the son of Poseidon, though. "Very well," she considered Percy. She raised it in a gesture of hopelessness, but Arya knew she was far from so. "It appears things are out of my hands. You have a right to rule Alagaesia, according to the prophecy. You have my support. If you must be king, even over us, then you must be king. I only ask for a favor."

"And what would that be?" Percy replied.

Considering him carefully, Islanzadi asked, "Will you aid in the defeat of our enemy Galabatorix? And may the elves have autonomy in their lands?"

"I have already been ordered to defeat Galbatorix," Percy reassured her. "As far as the gods are concerned, they do demand sacrifice, though it doesn't need to be done with living animals. They would be satisfied with stuffed animals, and with appropriate priests and priestesses, whom they pick, to carry it out. As far as being king is concerned, I see no reason to interfere too much. I may be ruler, but as long as the gods are appeased and not angry, nor should you go behind my back and betray me, and as long as the Olympians are honored, and as long as my rules are obeyed, and I am honored as the son of Poseidon and the rightful king of Alagaesia, I'll let you rule autonomously as a queen under my jurisdiction."

"Very well," Islanzadi seemed pleased, and Arya was relieved. Percy would still be king, and would have authority over her, but he had agreed to not be so interfering, except in matters of religion. It had been more than Arya had been hoping for. In fact, she was surprised at Percy's graciousness and generosity. She'd been expecting him to rule with a bit more control. But as she examined him, she saw why he was so eager to agree. He didn't really want to rule at all.

The tension eased as the position of the elves was secured. She knew her mother, especially considering the prophecy, would rather throw her lot in with Percy than with the Varden, as things weren't in the Varden's favor. That, and the prophecy practically guaranteed their enemy's defeat at Percy's hand.

The conversation moved forward. "Tell me how you have a dragon," Islanzadi quizzed.

"She was created by my adoptive mother, the Queen of Sea herself."

Islanzadi raised her eyebrows, sitting forward. The elvish aristocrats were murmuring. "Oh?" The queen thought for a moment. "Perhaps the race of the dragons can be revived," she murmured. Percy nodded. The elves were growing more and more pleased by the minute.

Once again, there was silence as Islanzadi contemplated. "While I can't bind you, Perseus, in oath, considering who you are, I trust that you shall take this secret and keep it. But for Murtagh and Eragon, I have a request, the same as I requested of Orik."

"And what is that?" Eragon piped up.

The queen examined them before continuing. "I need an oath in the ancient language, since it cannot be broken. There is someone here that can teach you magic, but I need a promise that you will not reveal him or his presence without permission from me."

Eragon was just about to say something when Percy piped him. "Islanzadi Drotting," he was respectful. "Perhaps I can suggest an oath on the River Styx instead? If one breaks the oath, one dies."

Seemingly intrigued, Islanzadi replied, "Perhaps both, for double security." She turned back to the two other riders. "I trust you know enough in the Ancient language to give this oath?"

Murtagh shook his head, but Eragon nodded.

"Very well," Islanzadi leaned back. "I shall give you the words."

Murtagh seemed cautious. "How do we know you're not giving us words to something else?"

Percy looked at Murtagh. "I understand the language because my brother taught me. I'll let you know if it's anything else."

"There," Islanzadi slapped the armwrest of her throne. "You have reassurance." With that, she gave them the words to say. Then, they looked at Percy, who nodded. Both of them gave their oath. Then it was repeated on the river Styx. Curiously enough, thunder boomed after they did so, and all the elves were looking around nervously, except for Percy.

After that, Islanzadi dismissed them, looking the more worn out. Outside, a familiar elf whom Arya hadn't seen in a long time greeted them. He had silver hair and grey eyes. And behind them was a gold dragon with a missing limb. Murtagh and Eragon gasped when they saw the dragon, and even Percy seemed surprised for once.

Oromis was looking back and forth. He seemed unusually disturbed, and he took in Percy's royal clothes. "Arya Drottingu," he addressed her. Arya nodded to him. "It... appears I have missed much. There are rumors going around..."

"My understanding is Brom had it worse," Arya replied.

"Oh?" Oromis raised an eyebrow. But then he shook his head. "I will have to ask him personally."

Oromis stepped up to Murtagh first, putting his hand on his shoulder. "I assure you, Murtagh Morzanson, that you needn't be afraid of your real name. We only judge by actions not heritage. You are very welcome here." It looked like a weight was lifted off Murtagh's shoulders.

Next, Oromis went to Eragon. "Eragon Bromsson, you have no idea how noble a name you hold amongst the elves. You have great shoes to fill, in more than one way. I shall look forward to tutoring you."

Eragon seemed surprised and a bit curious at what Oromis was implying.

Lastly, Oromis stopped in front of Percy, and he was silent for a long time. Then he finally greeted, "Prince of the sea, it is... in unusual... circumstances that you come here." He was silent once again, like he didn't quite know what to think of Percy. Finally, he continued, "I expect great things for you."

"I shall not disappoint," Percy was firm in promise.

Oromis nodded, warming up to him, and stepped away. "Come, you should all rest. We will not train tonight for it has been a long day."

Arya walked away from them as Oromis showed them to their quarters.

(Percy Point of View)

Some part of Percy was relieved that the most difficult part of meeting with the elves was over with. He hadn't wanted to pull the card he did, and he wouldn't have if Triton hadn't come to him the night before he entered Ellesmera and told him he needed to. While it wasn't ideal, and Percy had been hoping for a more understanding god, (which Mars, or rather Ares, was not) at least it had produced the results he desired. Now it was a matter of heading to that cave and finding out what had scared the shade so much.

While it was a risk inviting the Olympians once again, he knew it had to be done. It was a risk that had to be taken. A mirage, like Ares had done the previous time, wouldn't have cut it. The elves needed physical proof.

His gut clenched slightly. The future was always uncertain for a demigod.

The dark king... he kept thinking. 'Triton said the dark king was me.'

Percy had a hard time sleeping that night.

 **More action from the dragons coming up!**

 **Please review! Also, please tell me if you like my writing. I've been getting fewer reviews on the last couple of chapters than I normally do. Some feedback would be helpful.  
**


	9. Chapter 9: Trouble Never Stops

**I don't own Percy Jackson or the Inheritance Cycle.**

 **Also, if you like this story, you might check out my other Inheritance Cycle story, Of Mind and Of Will. It's Murtagh centered.**

Chapter Nine: Trouble Never Stops

(Percy Point of View)

The dragons were at it again. Part of Percy had hoped that now there was another male dragon around, it would calm the love triangle that was going on. But... no. Thorn still seemed to pursue Anaklusmos, despite Murtagh talking to him (assuming he did), to his frustration.

Instead, he turned his mind to the prophecy that he'd recently read in Greek at the dwarvish homeland.

'A mad king, immortal in turn,

Ageless and shall seem eternal,

Unbeatable to all.

The dying land to reunite,

He shall rule with a fist of iron,

Terror like never before,

All but few shall evade his hand.

Religion shall be scoffed,

Oppression of beliefs shall abound,

The king of Black condemning believers.

Though many believe,

The godless king shall not believe in the gods of old,

Until his fate he sees.

Many in grief shall cry for relief,

But none shall have power to defeat him.

A hundred years, his rule shall be,

His wrath tightening further,

In crisis as never before,

The land shall be.

His hand shall reach further,

He desires to rule all nations,

Succeed he will,

Unless matched by one.

The Prince of Prophecy,

The true king,

Who is the only one who can him defeat.

The ancient ones,

Knowing the distress,

Shall send relief to lead the way.

The glorious immortal prince and king

The false king he will defeat.

Filled with honor and righteousness,

His rightful throne to take,

Coming in an age of dire need,

Need of his glorious presence.

From a foreign land he comes,

To many continents he will go,

For the King in Black has journeyed far,

And many continents shall be afraid of the King in Black.

The blessings of the gods shall be on the rightful king,

And he shall pursue the King in Black,

From continent to continent he will go,

The crown of Alagaesia and the world on his head,

Until the black king, the usurper of his throne,

Be defeated and shall kneel before his feet,

Acknowledging him as the one true king,

Before he die for his blasphemy.

Beasts of viciousness shall plague the world,

The hand of the prince and rightful king shall crush them.

A failed revolution before the arrival of the one true king,

Starvation like never before,

All the nations shall be oppressed and cry,

A noble beastly race almost destroyed.

These shall cry for rescue,

And the prince shall plead their cause.

The divine shall be honored,

The crown set on the rightful king,

The pretended king in defeat,

The gods of old to return.

Dragon's blood sacrificed,

To bring the glory of the dawn,

Grief shall be as never before.

By treason shall come another betrayal.

The dark king shall rise,

The solitary daughter of Gaea stirs,

The black king and dragon's final breath,

And sacrifice shall win the war.

All must unite,

The dark king clothed with death,

The sea to obey him.

Victorious over his enemies he shall be

And death shall consume the living.

The dark king shall rule,

And all shall bring him honor.

He shall never be defeated.

Darkness shall reign,

A new age to bring.'

It was the prophecy that Apollo, long ago, had given to his High Priestess, who in turn gave it to the Grand Priestess of Alagaesia. Percy wasn't sure what it meant, but he couldn't help but be bothered by it.

'The dark king shall rise,' he thought to himself.

The way it was worded, it could easily have been Galbatorix. But then, why had Triton called _**him**_ the dark king instead? And why had the prophecy made the distinction between the King in Black and the dark king?

'I don't **_want_** to be a menace!' Percy thought to himself. 'These people have been through enough! I thought father said I was supposed to _**save**_ Alagaesia, not _**destroy**_ it?'

He sighed, getting into bed. Maybe he could plead to the gods for help.

That night, he was surprised to wander into Triton's palace. He didn't have to search long in the hallways, for when he turned around, there was Triton with a concerned look on his face.

Percy bowed. "Lord Triton," he greeted his brother.

"Percy?" Triton was concerned.

Hesitating, Percy decided to bring his concerns forward. "I was coming to ask about the prophecy."

Triton stared at him for quite a bit longer before leading the way to an enclosed room, deep in the ocean. He turned back to Percy. "What's wrong?"

He waited a moment, and then was blunt. "Why did you call me the dark king?"

Triton hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I only know that it was right. Gods don't know everything, you know."

"Then this prophecy," Percy asked. "Am I doomed to be a tyrant?"

Looking him straight in the eyes, seeing how much this bothered him, Triton placed his hand on his shoulder, still in merman form. "Percy, I don't know that that's even in you. I don't believe you could ever be a tyrant. Sometimes... prophecies are complicated... and they're not always what they seem."

"I'd rather be dead than a tyrant," Percy admitted.

This time, Triton was firm. "Percy, you were _**chosen**_ by the gods. The gods don't choose lightly. They were sure of you. You will never betray us, that much I know."

"I'll never betray the gods," Percy admitted. "But what about the people in Alagaesia?"

"The most I can tell you is to go with your heart," Triton advised. "I don't know what the future will hold. I'm not Apollo. Even then, Apollo only gets glimpses. He's not the fates, though I highly suspect he can trick the fates. This prophecy was given long ago. It is still standing, and upheld by the fates."

He wasn't sure of the answer, and Triton could see this. "Don't be afraid of the future," Triton reassured him. "You have a good heart, Percy, and you always have. That's one of the reasons you were chosen. The Olympians put a lot of faith in you, as do the minor gods. I highly suspect your making a mountain out of a molehill."

A small smile came on Percy's face when he heard his brother say the human phrase. "Thanks," he said to the god.

Triton nodded. He looked away and then became more serious again. "We'll be there on your coronation day," Triton promised. "By agreement before we loaned the world, the gods of those pantheons that now inhabit that world knew that they would have to leave the day before your coronation. But we'll be there for your coronation. Your father, Amphitrite your mother, your immortal sisters and brothers, Tyson, and I your brother want to see it in person. But, after that, we'll have to leave again until it's time to take _**her**_ on. Meanwhile, if you have a chance to get to it, you'll have to visit the other lands. They already know the gods are evacuating as their priests and priestess have told them. They're awaiting your arrival and the arrival of the Olympians who have been promised to them."

Percy nodded. "I'm still not sure of this titan. The shade, Durza, he found something. But what he found, I don't know. I'll have to check it out."

"Very well," Triton agreed. "But be careful." And his voice was fully of brotherly love. The subject was then changed. "You'll be interested to know that there are elves elsewhere in these lands you will visit that have been out of contact with their Ellesmera cousins. They're a bit confused as to why they're immortal now. Not even Queen Islandzadi and her court know that they exist. You'll have better luck with those since they have kept to their old religion. There are also other humans and urgals that you'll be visiting as well. And faeries in this world."

"Intriguing," Percy was interested. "What about dwarves?"

Triton shook his head. "On other worlds, yes," he confirmed. "And yes, we own a few of those. However, you're not going to interact with them yet. But on your world, there are only the dwarves in Alagaesia."

"Interesting," Percy murmured, thoughtful.

They spent the rest of the night talking, and Percy told Triton about all the bickering the dragons were doing. He chuckled when he heard about it, a listening ear. "She'll realize one day what she wants," Triton seemed sure.

They bid goodbye when it was time for Percy to wake up. As he opened his eyes and stretched, Percy wondered about everything they'd talked about.

'The elves will need to contact each other at some point,' he thought.

He got dressed.

(A few minutes later)

Arya was waiting for him when he got down from his tree house. "Good morning, Arya Drottingu," he greeted with perfect respect. Both had hopes that they were on good terms now.

"Good morning," Arya repeated, and was friendly. They walked together for a ways, Percy being the first up. When he saw that Arya had questions, he raised his eyebrows. "At least half-god?" she asked.

"I'm the son of a god, but the gods have been... messing with me. I'm not sure how much human I have left in me anymore," Percy admitted.

"Ah," Arya said.

He was surprised when the conversation was quite cordial. In fact, their relationship seemed to be mending. He could see the two of them becoming friends in the future. Slowly, they started sharing about each other. The elf was quite curious.

"I know this may seem out of place, but I can't help but notice that you ignore all the women around here. Someone like you is bound to attract many of the opposite gender. I thought, at first, that it was because of your status, but the more I think about it, the more it doesn't fit."

"I have no interest in anyone because I'm engaged," Percy admitted. At this, Arya nodded, confirming what she had suspected.

"Is she like you?" Arya asked.

"She's my cousin, once removed, on the godly side. Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena the Goddess of Wisdom and Battle Strategy."

"So your cousin will be your mother in law," Arya considered. Perhaps it would be odd to the elves. "She must think highly of you."

"It's... been rocky," Percy admitted. "But I think she finally approves of me."

"Oh?" Arya asked.

To his surprise, he was quite open. "So my half brother, the god Triton, raised her when she was young. But there was a mishap. Anyways, she went back to her father. And my dad, her uncle, well, there's been some tension between the two of them. You see, gods aren't supposed to mess with another god's priests or priestesses. Well, my father did that. So that only increased tensions between the sea and Athena. Then, thousands of years later, I come along and upset the apple cart because me and Annabeth began dating. Dad may approve, but Athena is careful."

"Sounds like you have a complicated family," Arya was rather amused. "I didn't realize how relatable gods can be."

"And sometimes petty," Percy admitted. "But, when they're all you have, you have to rely on them."

Compassion was in Arya's eyes. "And then they sent you here."

"Yes," Percy admitted. There was more worry on his face, and Arya seemed to pick up on it. "What's wrong?"

"The prophecy," Percy replied, hand on his head. "Whenever there's an oracle involved, or a prophecy given, conflict and danger always follows."

They both became sober for a minute. Then, Arya asked, "I know this is asking too much, but you healed me with ease. Oromis... he's precious to the elves and riders. But... he's ill. And Glaedr is the last dragon who can actually teach Saphira, Thorn, and Anaklumos what they need to know. Is there a chance you could heal them?"

Sitting up, unsure, Percy admitted, "I don't know. I have some healing powers as the son of Poseidon, and there are some things I am confident I can do, such as healing you of the poison. However, Apollo is the god of medicine. His children are more adept than I, due to their heritage. I can try, but I can't promise anything."

The elf nodded, but she perked up a little. When Percy was done eating, she stood up.

"Let's go see Oromis."

(Murtagh Point of View)

They were all sitting in front of Oromis, even Percy. In fact, Oromis had been in shock the whole lesson. Why, Murtagh didn't know, but when he saw the golden dragon, he could have sworn that the dragon looked different. Maybe his mind had been playing tricks on him, but wasn't the gold dragon, Glaedr, missing a limb the other day?

Murtagh shook his head. When he and Eragon had arrived, Percy and Oromis had been talking about something, Oromis shocked.

Percy didn't really have the power to regrow limbs, did he?

Murtagh had to wonder.

When he caught Thorn eyeing Anaklusmos again, he told his friend, 'You're obsessed.'

'Hardly!' Thorn lashed his tail. But he kept staring at Anaklusmos, even when she growled at him. 'What, can't you make friends?' he thought to the dragon, but also to Murtagh, a small laugh coming from him.

'You're antagonizing her,' Murtagh warned.

'What!' Thorn exclaimed. 'She won't make friends!'

'Maybe she would if you'd stop antagonizing her.'

'I'm not antagonizing her!'

Murtagh was amused. He didn't think that Thorn would get it, being as young as he was. But, he couldn't blame the young dragon. They were the last of their kind.

When they continued talking, Oromis started staring at him. Murtagh stared back, then his face went red as he realized what the dragon rider wanted: his attention. "Sorry," he broke out, and Oromis seemed amused. Then he sobered up a little.

"Concentration is something you're going to have to work on. Magic isn't something you want to play with."

Murtagh took his teacher's words to heart.

At that point, Percy stepped in. "I think I know what's going on. The dragons... well... are bickering over mates."

Oromis seemed aware of this and Glaedr growled. 'They should be paying attention instead of worrying about petty things.'

Anaklusmos growled. 'Be careful who you call petty,' she warned. 'I am a direct creation of the sea created by the Queen of the Sea herself!'

At this, Oromis seemed to ignore it. It must have been a pretty sensitive subject, the elves acknowledging that there was a half god walking around, that was. Personally, Murtagh didn't see much difference personality wise between Percy and the humans, other than occasion. Then again, that was to be expected because he had a human side to him, having a human mother.

Oromis had them meditate after that. Even Percy participated, though he was wary to cast magic for fear of offending his great aunt. "Until things calm down between her and the sea," Percy explained. So, Oromis didn't require it of him.

Murtagh was a bit curious whose side this Hectate goddess had taken in the fight. When he asked Percy later, after their mediation, Percy chuckled. "Neither," he explained. "She's mad at both of them for destroying her statue."

"Oh," Murtagh responded, not sure how to take it. Then again, she was a goddess, and Murtagh supposed that statues meant more to gods than mortals.

Eventually, Glaedr took the dragons away for training. He watched Thorn go, worried about how his dragon was going to fit in with the other dragons.

Oromis took them for some sparring. Both Murtagh and his brother were deemed acceptable by Oromis. However, Percy was another story. Every thrust by Oromis was blocked by Percy with ease, he being at least on par in regards to strength, speed, and agility as an elf. Moreover, several times Percy had managed to get strikes in, though Murtagh could tell that compared to the battle, Percy was making an effort to soften the blows so as not to harm the elf.

But, the big truth was, no one knew how demigods and legacies compared in battle to others, especially a full blown divine army.

Overall, Oromis seemed impressed. "You said your mother was human?" he asked Percy. Percy nodded. Shaking his head in amazement, Oromis replied, "If you're half god, I'd hate to see how the gods compare in battle. Your very physicality has to come from the godly side."

"They're formidable," Percy admitted. "I've fought gods and titans before." At the confusion, Percy replied, "Titans are gods, merely an earlier generation."

Once more, Oromis shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it!"

After training Eragon and Murtagh wandered around the elvish city, taking in the scenery. Their dragons were still in training, but Oromis had released them, telling them that he'd be sending them someone else to spar with from now on.

Eragon looked at Murtagh. "What do you think of Percy's sword skills?"

"You saw him on the battlefield," Murtagh cautioned. "He's formidable."

"Do you really think it comes from his godly side?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh was in amazement. "What other side could it come from? The human side? Since when have you seen humans fight like **_that_**?"

At that, Eragon considered. But, when Arya walked by, talking with Percy and another male elf, Eragon got dreary eyed. Murtagh chuckled as they disappeared into the distance. "You like her. Face it. But, in all honesty, maybe your father is right. Maybe you shouldn't pursue her."

Eragon glared at him and walked off. But, Murtagh caught up. They were silent for a bit.

Eventually, they made their way to another elvish building that was grown out of the tree. Both of them jumped when they heard Percy's voice behind them as they were looking at a scroll. "Can you read that?"

Murtagh turned around swiftly, seeing Percy in less casual attire than he was used to. The seventeen year old had changed into what he had referred to once as jeans and a t-shirt. There was no gold and silver in it, unlike his usual attire.

Percy frowned, and Murtagh exclaimed, "My goodness! I never noticed that you have the feet of an elf! I didn't hear you coming!"

Percy seemed surprised, hesitated, and then shrugged, like he was taking it into account. "I've been told that I'm very different from humans."

"Surely you have some human characteristics?"

A small smile lit Percy's face. "Humor, love," he admitted, and it was clear he was thinking of someone.

"Significant other?" Murtagh suggested.

To his surprise, Percy nodded. "My fiancée, Annabeth, daughter of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Battle Strategy."

"Oh," Murtagh was surprised. He was kind of hoping that Percy was drawn to an ordinary human. But, then again, since there seemed to be many of them out there, what was he expecting? Since when would any ordinary person suit someone who was the son of a god? Only another person with divine status would.

"She's a formidable warrior herself," Percy told them.

Eragon seemed to be taking the information in. Finally, he brought the scroll over to Percy. "Since you can read it, I was hoping for your opinion on this. I can only understand some of it, and you still have yet to finish your lessons with me."

Chuckling, Percy replied, "You're right. I do. You know, at this point, if I ever become fully god, I may as well make you my priest. In fact, I order you as my priest. Then I can always tutor you." At that, awkwardness broke in, especially since Murtagh knew he was chosen to become a priest. He still didn't know how he felt about that little tidbit of his life being predetermined.

Percy began tutoring the both of them, and Murtagh, who was impressed with Percy's knowledge of the language, began asking him what other languages he spoke.

"English," Percy replied. At that point, Arya came in. She probably had heard the last part of the conversation, for she didn't seem confused as to what they were talking about. "Also, Ancient Greek and Latin. In fact, my mind is more hardwired for the languages of the gods. It's easier to read. But, before I was sent to Alagaesia, my cousin and future mother in law tutored me immensely in languages. I had to learn the Alagaesian tongues, both urgal and dwarf, the ancient languages, including the written elvish language, the human tongues, and tongues that are on other continents you haven't had contact with."

"Others?" Murtagh was surprised. Arya seemed curious herself.

Percy nodded. "The whole world belongs to the Olympians since they created it."

At this, Arya broke in. "You must have had a lot of respect back home from the ordinary."

Percy was hesitant at this. "Things are... complicated," he admitted. After a long silence, Percy looked down and finally admitted, "For twelve years of my life, I didn't know who I truly was. I had gifts I couldn't explain, and strange things always happened to me. It wasn't until I was twelve years old and in danger from my godly uncle from down below trying to kill me that the news was finally broken to me that I was half god."

They were stunned. "Really?" Murtagh asked.

Percy nodded. "It's that way with many, if they survive their childhood, that is. Imagine being hunted by monsters your whole life. Many don't make it."

They didn't know what to say. What could they say, after all, to that?

Percy continued, "The godly realm is very dangerous. In fact, many don't reach their twelfth birthday, let alone their eighteenth. I've been _**very**_ , _**very**_ lucky. You have no choice but to be strong and able to fight, if you want to survive, that is."

"Why did your uncle try to kill you?" Eragon asked, but Murtagh glared at him, thinking it was improper. To his surprise, though, Percy responded.

"Let's just say, he thought I stole something from him, even though I didn't. Gods are very protective of whats theirs. And I didn't even know about my true heritage, at the time!"

"This uncle of yours sounds dangerous," Murtagh was worried.

"Nah!" Percy immediately replied, all cheery. "Not unless your a murderer, or something like that. To the just, he's fine! We get along quite well now. It's all patched up!"

At this, Murtagh was pretty sure it was the godly part of Percy speaking up, not the human part of Percy since no normal human would have considered it that way, especially after nearly being murdered. All in all, it was strange having a conversation with someone like this who was related to gods and was part god themselves.

Arya stood up, and they all turned their attention to her. "I think you should probably rest and get to bed early tonight. Oromis informed me that he wants you up earlier so you can complete your sparring before you train with him."

They all stood up to exit.

(Vanir Point of View)

As the young male elf wandered to the little clearing where he would be sparring with the riders, he was in deep thought. While he hadn't been around when the supposed occurrences happened, he'd heard about the half-godling that was walking around.

Vanir humphed. 'I'll be the determinant of that,' he thought to himself. It was impossible, a hoax in his opinion.

None the less, he'd heard from Oromis, who was leader of the dragon riders along with Glaedr, that this Percy was a formidable warrior and was able to match any elf.

He wasn't sure what to believe. Since when was any human at the speed and strength of an elf?

It was chaos since Percy's supposed claim. Word had gotten around the entire elvish homeland. Many were curious, but dubious. Others were journeying to Ellesmera to see for themselves.

As far as Vanir was concerned, there were no gods, let alone part gods. And this prophecy that Orik had quoted was a fake, somehow being encouraged to do it by Percy, conspiring with him.

That Oromis was a believer had him confused. How had this human tricked so many powerful and mighty elves who were renowned for their wisdom? No, he was definitely not related to any gods. He was a powerful trickster, and Vanir knew he would have to be careful not to believe any of Percy's lies.

A frown met his face. He was up early, since Oromis had asked him to spar with the son of Brom and son of Morzan. It was curious that he was not asked to spar with Percy. And all three were late.

'Why would this Percy not want to show off his supposed talents?' the elf thought. 'He claims to be the son of a god, but he refuses to spar? He must have no talents to speak of.'

It wasn't long later that he heard a loud roar. Looking up, he saw four dragons, one with a curious sense of power to her and green and black scales, like the ocean. The others were Glaedr, a red male dragon, and a blue dragon, a female.

With this, Vanir was surprised. He guessed there was something to there being an anonymously fourth dragon. However, that didn't mean Percy was half god.

Some time later, tremendously late, a man who looked like Morzon, a sixteen year old boy who had some of Brom's features, and a young man with black hair and turbid eyes that seemed like storms entered the clearing. He snorted. So, the acclaimed godling did come. He'd be the determiner of what he really was.

The young man, almost an adult, who had the turbid eyes looked at him in curiosity. Vanir unsheathed his sword, which was elegantly ornamented. He'd rather get this over with. With disdain, he noticed that only the son of Morzon and the son of Brom were carrying swords, but Percy had no sword in sight.

The three walked up and greeted him with traditional elvish salutes. Vanir said nothing and instead led them over by a tree. All but one lagged behind, unsure of him. When Vanir turned around, he saw that it was Percy that had followed him. As he gazed, emotionless, Murtagh and Eragon followed.

"Oromis has ordered that I spar with you," Vanir announced, and his voice was filled with displeasure. "Seeing as the two of you have swords," he nodded towards Eragon and Murtagh. "You shall go first."

Percy did nothing but raise his eyebrows, not even a word from him. Eragon then stepped forward, but Murtagh, the older brother, held him back. As the brothers glanced at each other, Murtagh told him, "I'll go first." As they looked between each other, Vanir noticed that something else was going unsaid that only the two brothers understood. Eragon relented, and with worry, watched his brother go down.

It was easy to defeat the son of Morzan. He got so many strokes he was beginning to think humans were a joke. How could a mere human army have slaughtered so many elves when the riders fell? This one couldn't even keep up!

Finally, Murtagh was left on the ground, panting. Eragon looked at his brother in concern, and then helped his brother off the field. "Thanks," Murtagh murmured as he dragged the dreaded Zarroc off into the treeline.

"You next," Vanir glared at Eragon. Eragon, who was using a regular human blade did his best to look brave, and he stepped up towards Vanir.

Once again, it was an easy battle for him. The pitiful human didn't even stand a chance. Eragon lasted about as long as his brother, then he too was on the ground, bruised and panting.

Vanir snorted. What was he kidding himself? Agreeing to this? It wasn't even a challenge.

As Murtagh helped his brother out of the clearing, Vanir turned his attention to the pretender. Percy raised his eyebrows, completely calm. But, to his surprise, a playful look entered his eyes and Percy asked, somewhat flippant, "Care to spar?"

Vanir scoffed. "You don't even have a weapon!"

"Oh?" was Percy's response, and his eyes swirled with power. He reached into his pocket and took out an interesting stick like thing. As he took the cap off, Vanir's eyes widened as it turned into a sword of unusual style. So... the human did carry a sword with him... It wasn't what he was expecting though...

And why was it glowing?

Percy casually marched into the clearing, ready to have a fight. Annoyed once more, Vanir struck first, before Percy was even completely on the field. To his surprise, though, Percy easily blocked the blow, continuing to walk forward and automatically whacked him with the blunt part of the blade on his shoulder. Vanir gasped in surprise, not expecting the speed from the human. When he looked at Percy, Percy raised his eyebrow at him.

At this Vanir realized that he was going to have to be careful. While he didn't believe Percy had divinity in him, he was willing to accept that somehow Percy had acquired elvish speed, reflexes, and strength. However he didn't realize how wrong he was until they really got sparring.

Percy blocked his every attempt and made several blows himself, moving much faster than Vanir had seen any elf move, and with a strength and reflexes that surpassed an elf. In one move as they sparred, Percy was in front of him, blocked him, and then somehow got behind him so fast, his blade barely pressed into Vanir's lower back with such precision and accuracy, the elf was startled. He could see now how this Percy had easily defeated the shade where physicality was concerned. What's more, he knew that Percy was holding back and was being careful not to hurt him, showing quite the discipline. It was confusing since when Percy moved at a regular pace and walk, he moved at human pace. It disguised how fast and strong he really was, which had thrown Vanir off.

He was allowed to turn around, and then they started sparring again. At this point, Vanir knew that he was going to have to change tactic, or he was going to risk being beaten by a mere human. So, summoning the magic in him, he cast a spell, using nothing but mind power. To his surprise, Percy continued on as if nothing had happened. So, he tried aloud this time, whispering, "Thrysta Vindr!" Again, nothing happened, and he hissed as Percy effortlessly removed his blade with his sword, his blade clattering to the ground.

Vanir looked up at Percy in surprise and his blade which was on the ground. He didn't understand. Magic wasn't doing anything to Percy.

Percy continued looking at him, his expression unreadable, his eyes twirling with power, a mini storm inside them. Slowly backing up, Vanir picked up his sword, knowing that the fight was lost. "That was... impressive."

He didn't know what to do. There wasn't anything to say, really. Percy had beat him. A mere human had beat him. Watching Percy carefully, he asked, considering the possibility that Percy had blocked him with his magic, he asked, "Can you use magic?"

Raising an eyebrow at his question, Percy replied, "I can do much more than magic."

Suddenly, the earth began shaking, and it felt like it was going to tear asunder. The water in the river nearby was boiling and then stood up in a heap. The clouds started building, and it looked like a thunderstorm was coming, despite the fact that it had been clear skied just a second ago.

Vanir stepped back, slightly panicked. He was aware of no magic that could do this.

At this, Murtagh's voice popped up. "Um, Percy, do you mind stopping? Thorn's getting nervous, and he says having a hard time flying."

Everything stopped just as suddenly as it started. The clouds dissipated, the sky clear, the ground stopped shaking, and the water returned to normal.

His whole world was being turned upside down. There was no magic in the air that had caused this, he could tell. And slowly, he was coming to terms with the revelations the elves had received and realizing that Percy was indeed who he said he was.

He looked at the son of this foreign deity with a greater respect than before. All his weird quirks fit. The fact that he was able to easily withstand Vanir in combat meant that there was more to him than met the eye.

Percy raised his eyebrow again when he saw Vanir staring. "What?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Vanir replied, "Nothing."

He walked away, not able to stand being there any longer. It was so surreal. And, slowly, Vanir's mind turned back to the legends that his people knew about, but no one acknowledged existed, the ancient religion. He was beginning to think that maybe they should start examining the old stories so carefully.

Going back to his tree house, he sat on the edge of his bed in great thought. It was unlike him to be thinking about things that were associated with dwarves and humans, urgals even.

The half human had beat him. And he couldn't even believe that he was calling him half-human. He knew that it was his way of acknowledging that Percy really was half god.

It was at that moment that Oromis called out to him. Coming down from his tree house, he greeted the dragon rider.

Leading him around Ellesmere in no particular direction, Oromis finally asked him, "How did the sword fight go?"

Considering for a moment, knowing that this wasn't what Oromis really wanted to ask but that the conversation was going in that direction, Vanir replied, finally giving the other humans some credit, "The... humans are decent. Good for humans, I suppose. But the halfling..." Yes. That's what he would call him. He shook his head in wonder. "He's surreal. It's unnatural. He looks human, and yet... He beat me with ease."

Oromis nodded, no doubt surprised. He knew Vanir's personality and probably expected him to be giving a bit more negative report. "I've been putting some reading into the old legends," Oromis admitted. "In fact, Islanzadi asked me to, ever since Percy's revelation."

"And?" Vanir asked as they spoke in the ancient language. But, to his surprise, he was led to the old library where there were tons of scrolls. And, lying on the table, was a scroll written in a language from a long, long time ago.

He looked at the scroll. Despite being fifty, he still was learning and he hadn't read that far back in history. "What am I looking at?" he asked Oromis.

Oromis seemed disturbed. "This, which is older and ignored by many for a long time, is a copy of the prophecy that the dwarves quoted to Queen Islanzadi. It appears that _**we**_ have a version as well, in the old tongue. That is not all. Among the legend of the old gods we used to worship, coming from _**very**_ old scrolls there **_is_** indeed mention of gods prior to that that we worshiped. But that's not whats got my attention."

Vanir stared in awe at the scroll. "Can you read it?" he asked. Very few could read the scrolls from this period of time as the elves had long been atheist, ever since the old land, even. The had brought their atheist attitude with them when they came to Alagaesia.

"Some," Oromis nodded, stepping up to the scroll. "Though I've had to brush up on my skills, as I haven't had much use for reading the scrolls of the old religion, nor for reading history this far back. But I can understand enough that it is indeed a rendering of the very prophecy that Orik talked about. However, from reading what I've read, Percy's correction on the line about the lonely daughter of the earth is indeed correct, for our version renders it to be 'the abandoned daughter of the primordial earth goddess shall rise'. However, that's not what has my attention."

"So then, Percy gave a purer translation," Vanir wanted confirmation.

Oromis nodded. "They all mean many similar things. However, I am to understand that Percy speaks the original language, and the scroll that I am holding indicates that this is merely a translation of a much older scroll the elves used to hold, and where it is, I do not know. However, it was apparently given to our ancestors by the gods that we used to worship, the original ones, that is. Percy's gods."

Nodding, Vanir turned his attention away from the scroll to another scroll that Oromis had brought out from under the table, marked with paper in a certain area. When he opened the scroll carefully, he opened it to that very spot marked by the paper.

It was confusing, the script. "What am I looking at?" Vanir asked. It seemed like a family tree that the elves would use to keep track of lineage.

Oromis stared at him for a moment before continuing. "It appears, the elves have preserved the names of the gods of old who originally governed this world. After Percy mentioned that his father was a "Poseidon", I delved into the old scrolls. And low and behold..."

He trailed off, pointing at a name further down on the scroll that Vanir couldn't read. Oromis looked at him, seeing his confusion. "Right here, is the very name, though in a different format. Poseidionama. The name of the ancient water god, god of the oceans."

Vanir's eyes widened. "He's here? In our very literature?"

Oromis acknowledged him with his head. "Yes. In fact, this scroll was a family tree of the gods that our ancestors used to worship, before our worship was converted to other gods for an unknown reason. But, that's not all. Look at this."

Oromis pointed further up the scroll to another name, some sort of ancestor to the god Poseidon. "Gainara, or Gaea, as Percy said. The primordial goddess of the earth."

It was almost too much for Vanir. While he didn't doubt now that Percy really was the son of the sea god that he claimed to be, at the same time it was hitting uncomfortably close to home that the very gods Percy had mentioned were personal gods of religion for his elvish race. It seemed too personal to be comfortable.

Vanir's eyes trailed over the scroll, not sure what to think. So, he decided to make a joke to ease the situation. "I guess you're going to have to add Percy's name in there somewhere."

Chuckling, Oromis nodded. "I suppose I will, with Islanzadi's permission, that is. The truth is, we're probably going to make a new one. The other night, Islanzadi commissioned me and a few other elves to bring up the old scrolls and to make a translation into our current tongue. The language has changed so much that if the majority want to read it, it's going to have to be translated. That, and it's about time we delve back into looking at our history, anyways. Chances are, Percy will be added in there with a note that he's a newer son of Poseidon."

"Do you think Percy will be interested in these?" Vanir then asked.

Oromis considered. "Possibly," he was thoughtful. "In fact, for the sake of the prophecy, perhaps it is a good idea that Percy look at it. According to him, there was a titan goddess left here that the people where he was didn't record. If he can look at this and decipher which gods and goddesses are currently accounted for, then it's highly possible that we can figure out what titan we're going to be dealing with."

It was now that Vanir brought up something else. "Percy isn't affected by magic."

"Ah," Oromis replied, rolling up the scroll again. "I actually found that out myself as I was dueling him. I cast a spell in between my efforts as we were sparring in an effort to save some of my dignity, and it was as if it was never cast. It was curious. So, I began looking into it myself. While there are no mentions of demigods here, as far as I can see in our history, I think I might have found something that might explain that. Unfortunately, many of the words I can't understand. Fortunately, there are elves who are trained in the old language that far back, or at least to this time frame. But trained in the language farther back? I fear not. They're the ones that will be primarily translating the scrolls. My knowledge of the language is very minimal. And seeing as I need to train new riders, well, I won't have time."

"How many will be translating the scrolls?" was Vanir's next question.

"Currently," Oromis answered him. "Other than me, there are only two in Ellesmera that can understand the old language. And, they've made a job of it their whole lives, meaning that they're better at it than me. Unfortunately, there are many scrolls, and many mentioned from that time period that seem to be missing. So, Islanzadi's gathering anyone in the the whole Du Weldenvarden who has the ability to read this ancient tongue so that the scrolls can be translated. Apart from the two others and me, we figure that there are no more than perhaps twenty who can read this far back. It's simply too ancient a language."

"Then very, very few can read it," Vanir surprised. It was surprising, even though he knew he shouldn't be surprised. Not many elves cared to get back into the history of when they worshiped the old gods, except to prove how much better off they were, and how they were less ignorant than were than their ancestors. And certainly almost _**no one**_ went back ** _that_** far. In fact, the language that Oromis was reading in, Vanir knew to be used in the three thousandth dynasty. "How many knew about these scrolls?" Vanir asked.

"No one," Oromis told him. "This is the first time we're reading it in a long time. These haven't been opened since at least 1000 years before we left for this continent. Simply put, everyone assumed these scrolls were about the same old gods, and none of us realized that we had ever worshiped gods before them. So, we saw no reason to read back that far, assuming them to be all the same. It wasn't until Erisdar and I got looking into the old scrolls that we decided to see how far back we could go. That was when we were met with this interesting surprise."

"Indeed," Vanir acknowledged. "This is going to change what we thought we knew about our history."

"Yes," Oromis confirmed. "Yes, it will. In fact, we haven't even touched the tip of the iceberg. That's why Islanzadi, when she heard, was desperate to get more elves who can read this language. These scrolls appear to be from the later age, slightly before our worship was converted into the old religion. And these scrolls, in and of themselves, are around ten thousand years before our migration."

"Ten thousand!" Vanir exclaimed. "And this is only the later age? If that's the case, then this world is older than we care to admit!"

Oromis nodded. "It appears, when we calculated the age of this world, that we didn't take the legends and myths into account. But that it the least of our problems. Not many in our history before we came to Alagaesia read this far back. And none since we came to Alagaesia have read this far back, until now. But, this is where our people last leave references to Percy's gods. It appears we still have much history to uncover."

Vanir didn't know what to say. He knew the world was very old, but at the same time, he knew of very few elves who even read back a thousand years before they arrived in Alagaesia. Then that also lead to problems of the language changing to the point where they wouldn't understand older records, even though they may desperately have needed them, which was worrisome.

"The language is archaic, even for the ancient tongue," Oromis sighed. "Erisdar is having trouble reading it, and he's more well versed than I. Which, of course, complicates things. Simply put, the language before we adopted the ancient language that the Grey Folk used was far more complex, quite beautiful, actually. One of the problems is that unlike our tongue now, which the Grey Folk used, which is far simpler, there are nuances in the old tongue that are easy to miss or misunderstand. In fact, sometimes a passage can have multiple translations. That's to say nothing of this ancestral language that mentions Percy's gods. The very format of the language appears to be different due to evolution latter on. It _**is**_ a beautiful language, though."

"Do you think you and Erisdar are missing much, then?"

"I have no doubt," Oromis was firm.

Considering, Vanir looked at the scrolls again and eyed the names that were on the scroll with the names of Percy's godly family. It was confusing to him, and the strokes were much different, unrecognizable to many elves.

Oromis began rolling that scroll up as well. "I never thought that I'd be using this human term, but _**pray**_ we find a way to decipher these old scrolls. They may contain the knowledge we many need before long, including about the defeat of Galbatorix."

"I hope the others arrive soon," Vanir murmured.

"So do I," Oromis was worried. "This, here, was a surprise to us. But, sadly, I must leave it. I fear I am late to teach the next generation of riders."

Vanir gave him the traditional elvish salute for their departure, and Oromis returned it.

Oromis eyed him then. "Try to keep an open mind, Vanir. You may be needed to help with this mess before long."

That's when Vanir knew that Oromis had hand picked him for something.

(Arya Point of View)

Arya and Orik were walking side by side, in deep conversation. Suddenly, Arya decided to bring up something that had been on her mind for a while. "My mother asked some of the elves to read back into the ancient scrolls, scrolls we haven't read in a long time."

"Oh?" Orik was curious.

Careful how she framed it, not sure what it meant to her people, she admitted, "We were met with a... surprise. There, in the old scrolls, when you go far enough back, it appears Percy's gods **_are_** mentioned."

"Really?" Orik was intrigued, and she knew she had his undivided attention.

"That's not all," Arya told. "These scrolls were long forgotten, as were many that mentioned any religions the elves previously had. But, there among the scrolls, was a translation of the very prophecy you gave."

Orik stopped, stunned. "I know the humans have one," he finally admitted. "And the urgals, as well. Some had talked of prophecy, at least that's what our magician spies reported. And many of the things they said were from that very prophecy."

"It's intriguing," Arya was thoughtful. Then her features turned concerned. "Mother is worried. She's more than willing to establish relations with the Dwarves and the Varden again. In fact, she's hopeful that she can get access to other information that might shed light on Percy's gods. The problem for us is, the scrolls are so far back, and the further back you go, the fewer the elves can read the language. As it is, we're having trouble reading what we do have, and we fear the further back we push, we may not be able to read the language at all. But, seeing as the humans and dwarves are also aware of the prophecy, the humans bringing it with them across the continent, then we think it's possible these Olympians once governed the whole world. So, we're hoping to compensate and piece things together."

"Ah," Orik listened in sympathy. "Well, unfortunately, Arya Drottingu, we too can only read back so far. We only know some of the mythology from the time of Percy's gods from oral stories that have been handed down, as no one can read that ancient language we used to write. In fact, the only thing that's been consistently translated throughout the generations and handed down was that prophecy that I gave you. And, from the oral traditions, we know it was from the time of Percy's gods. I'm afraid you'll also find the same thing among the humans. It's simply too far back. However, I remember hearing the oral stories among that humans that they brought across the ocean. And they're strangely similar to ours. Perhaps, Percy can correct them."

"A pity," Arya seemed sad. "I was hopeful maybe we could piece things together."

"Well," Orik offered. "Maybe between Percy and all of our oral traditions, we _**can**_."

Smiling at him, Arya nodded.

"That would be helpful."

(Percy Point of View)

Percy's dreams kept disturbing him at night. And, from the look on Murtagh's face, he knew that Apollo's future priest was getting bad dreams as well. But, the terrible dreams of the demigods and his godly family vanquishing out of existence were almost too much for him to bear. He knew that he was holding off from doing what he needed to be doing.

Getting up one night, panting, he heard Anaklusmos's concerned voice, 'Are you all right, Perseus?'

'No,' Percy admitted, worried. That's when he made his decision. 'I'm leaving, Anaklusmos. I need you to stay here while I check things out. I... I don't want you in danger.'

'You have Olympian heritage,' Anaklusmos warned. 'Whatever is in this cave, Percy, be careful.'

'I know,' Percy breathed. 'But I can't delay any longer. There is danger near.'

Anaklusmos seemed reluctant, but as Percy packed then jumped out of his tree house, Anaklusmos was right there. She nuzzled him.

'Stay safe,' she told her rider, worry in her eyes.

'I will,' Percy promised her, looking into her eyes.

He **_would_** make it back.

(Vanir Point of View)

As he looked out of his treehouse, he saw a figure in the distance. Percy was riding the winged horse like thing that they'd all been warned not to touch, and whom Arya said could disintegrate one with even the slightest touch. From the look of it, he was heading outside of Du Weldenvarden.

The elf watched him go, and then followed a ways behind. By now, many would be asleep.

Seeing as the winged horse was going at a slow walk, he caught up easily. But, without turning around, Percy asked, "Why are you following me, Vanir?"

So, the half god had senses beyond that of a human. "Where are you going?" Vanir asked.

At this, Percy reigned in his winged horse, worry in his eyes. "I can't delay anymore," he finally explained. "There's something that Durza found, something linked to my gods and the prophecy. He didn't know what he'd found. I have to check it out and see what it is."

Hesitation was in Vanir's eyes. "Will you take anyone?" he asked the son of Poseidon.

Percy shook his head. "Too dangerous."

At this, Vanir was reluctant. But then he remembered how powerful Percy was, and that was when he realized that there was nothing an elf could do in this situation. So, instead, he gave the only blessing he could.

"Stay safe, son of Poseidon."

Percy nodded and murmured, "Stay safe, Vanir."

Percy's horse spread his wings, and they were in the air.

(Anaklusmos Point of View)

Anaklusmos had been solemn and worried since her rider had left. She was up early, and to her surprise, so were some of the other dragons. As she felt gloomy, looking into the sky over the cliffs she was on, she was surprised when Thorn landed beside her, and even more surprised when she didn't seem to mind his company. 'Everything okay?' the red dragon asked her.

Sighing, the sea dragon admitted, 'No.' She looked up at the sky. 'My rider... is gone.'

She was surprised that she was telling the red dragon this at all. It was unlike her. But, she couldn't help it.

'Gone?' Thorn seemed alarmed.

Anaklusmos hung her head and turned back to Thorn. 'He went to check out the cave spoken of by Durza.'

The red dragon was even more alarmed. 'Please tell me no,' he begged.

She sent him an impression that he was wrong. 'He has. As the son of Poseidon, he has duties.'

Thorn looked horrified, and when Anaklusmos looked at him, she was surprised to find that she was worried about him. 'What's wrong?'

'Murtagh,' he murmured, spreading his wings. 'Come, we need to tell Murtagh!'

'Why?' the sea dragon was sharp, but as Thorn took flight, so did she. They landed in front of a tree house where there was a disheveled looking Murtagh. He was pacing back and forth, and it appeared there was something very wrong.

'Murtagh?' Anaklusmos immediately contacted him.

Murtagh immediately whipped around and looked in the sea dragon's eyes. 'Please tell me Percy did not leave for that cave!'

'He did,' Anaklusmos was cautious. 'Why?'

Horror spread across Murtagh's face, and he grabbed his hair in a painful manner.

'He's gonna die!'

(Percy Point of View)

Percy kept reviewing the description of the cave that Durza had said he'd found. Even though Percy was on the edge of Alagaesia's borders, and knew he was heading in the right direction, he still wanted to know what he was up against.

Sighing, Percy decided to make camp for the night. It was late, and the sun was starting to set. At a word from Percy, Blackjack landed, and Percy set his tent up while his pegasus grazed.

They were right by a lake, and Percy felt at ease. 'Everything all right?' Blackjack asked him.

Considering, Percy responded, 'I feel like there's something important in that cave that Durza went into.'

The pegasus snorted. 'We both know that. That's why you have to go there.'

Percy looked back at the lake. It was tempting. Blackjack seemed amused. 'If you're missing the water, then why don't you head in?'

'Yeah,' Percy agreed, more enticed by the second. Blackjack's suggestion was only making his desire to be back in his realm stronger. 'Why don't I?'

Deciding to take a swim, he cannon balled in, and was immediately relaxed. Everything was so clear around him. As soon as he entered the water, the lake's fishes and other sea creatures were attracted to him.

'What have we here?' some said.

'You smell like an Olympian!' others said.

'I am,' Percy replied to them mentally, and they went in a frenzy of excitement that he could understand them. 'I'm the son of Poseidon.'

'Poseidon's son!' they eagerly responded, flocking around him. 'It has been so long since we've heard of the old sea god!'

At that, another fish pointed out, 'Why do you smell human too?' It was a bit of innocent curiosity.

'Because I'm half human as well,' Percy replied. Then, he kicked off the ground and began to use his water powers to propel him forward.

Everywhere, he was greeted with wildlife who wanted to see the son of the old sea god. Word was getting around fast. Perhaps too fast, for Percy's liking. It was getting harder to swim the more attention he drew because the wildlife would flock him, wanting to see him.

Going down further, Percy was surprised to see a little volcano in the lake. It was long since dormant, that is, unless Percy used his powers to make it go. But he had no intention of doing so.

Further out, the lake drifted into a stream that emptied into the lake. Knowing there had to be a stream leading out of the lake, Percy explored, going on to the opposite side of the lake. And low and behold, he was right.

As he journeyed into the spring, he was greeted with more wildlife.

He decided to explore the stream a little and was pleased when he discovered that it traveled in a southerly route, just were he needed to be going. The stream split and one curved around, heading to where he knew the mountains that housed the dwarves were. The other headed in the direction he needed to go, south and towards the old continent, which was in truth a more south easterly direction.

He knew from the maps his father had shown him where the cave that Durza had mentioned was. He'd been required to memorize where quite a bit of areas were. It was an abandoned land, but it also had a mysterious aura about it. That much he knew.

It was a little disorienting to him, knowing he was traveling the route the shade had most likely taken. It was weird to think he was walking in Durza's footsteps. At the same time, it was needful.

Finally, having had enough exploring, he used his water powers to propel him back to his camp. This could easily be crossed over with flight.

Though he was completely dry as he came out of the lake, at the same time he was cold to the bone. The temperature was dropping.

Blackjack trotted over to him. 'You were gone for quite sometime, my lord. Over three hours.'

'I was exploring,' Percy admitted, deep in thought. 'It's a pity that everything was so cloudy during our flight. I would have liked to see the horizon more.'

'So would I,' his pegasus told him, and pawed with one hoof. 'But I don't need to see the sky to fly.'

'No you don't,' Percy agreed with a chuckle.

Later that night, his pegasus knelt on the ground and went to sleep. But Percy, by his campfire, stared out across the horizon, towards his destination. It would take several days, he knew, to reach the cave. That would give him time to plan his move, if it was even a good plan at all.

As the darkness drew on, Percy found himself thinking about Annabeth. Then, he drifted back to sleep.

He was back in Triton's palace, for some reason. He was in the vast hallways. He didn't know why. But, his brother was nowhere to be seen. At this, he stopped the closest nymph he could find. "My brother," he said to her. "Do you know where he is?"

She seemed in thought for a minute. "In the throne room," she finally told him. And there was worry in her eyes. "He's been in there several hours. He won't come out."

Swimming to the doors in front of the vast throne room of his brother's, Percy took a deep breath. He didn't know if he should disturb his brother or not, especially if he wasn't in a good mood. But, finally, he got the courage and opened up the doors.

Triton was sitting on his throne, in his merman form, the trident in his left hand. He seemed deep in thought, worried. The double doors closed behind Percy as he used the ocean water to close it. Approaching the throne, he knelt down and greeted his brother, "Lord Triton."

Staying knelt down, it took a moment for Triton to register that he was there. But, when he did he was in deep surprise and worry. "Perseus!" he greeted, and he immediately got off his throne, swimming towards Percy, trident disappearing.

Percy got up out of his bow when he was sure it was polite to do so. Triton was looking at him, and Percy could tell that he was trying to conceal his worry. But, Percy caught on. "Is everything okay?" he asked his brother.

For a moment, it looked like Triton was going to deny him. But, when he saw that he couldn't hide it from Percy, he shook his head, worry back on his face. "No," he admitted. "Nothing is okay."

Percy was curious, but he knew better than to ask. However it appeared Triton wasn't going to deny him anymore. Looking sideways, Triton admitted, "Things are happening... faster than we liked. Because Mars had to appear in person, well, the titan is beginning to stir. She's beginning to wake up more, we can tell. But, it couldn't be helped. The elves needed proof, physical proof."

At this Percy was concerned. And, he could also tell that his brother was currently in his Roman form, something he hadn't noticed. Triton was so similar in both his Greek and Roman forms that the only way Percy could really tell, sometimes, was when Triton used the Latin names instead.

Sighing, Triton put his hand to his face and began swimming back and forth. "Neptune went back to Olympus. Salacia has the whole ocean on alert, meanwhile. I know Jupiter is quickening the training of the legions and Greeks." He turned back to Percy, then. "But don't you worry. We'll be there at your coronation."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Percy was concerned. "If coming is going to wake her up, then it's not a good idea."

Triton shook his head. "No. The inhabitants need to know that your reign as the king of the world is backed by the gods. Without us there, you'll may seem illegitimate, even though you have a right to reign since you're the son of a god, and even though the prophecy states you're the only legitimate monarch. But not everyone may realize that the son of a god has the right to reign. So, it needs to be done. It **_must_** be backed by the gods."

"It's a risk, though," Percy was concerned. Temporarily, he put his shock and irk aside that it wasn't just Alagaesia he was ruling, but the whole dang world under the Olympians, aside.

"A necessary risk," Triton was firm. And Percy knew that he wouldn't be able to dissuade him.

"Perhaps," Percy countered trying a different angle. "Instead of having all the gods there, and all the demigods and legacies, you could send only an envoy? That might help in regards to delaying this titan's wake. And, the inhabitants still get the proof they need."

At that, Triton stared at him like the solution was ingenious, which it was. "I'd never thought of that," Triton considered. "I don't know if I can convince the council, but it's reasonable. The humans still get their proof, and we still maintain a minimal presence." But at that, his head snapped to Percy. "Don't think you can convince the daughter of Minerva that she can't attend. Annabeth is eager to be there, just as you were at _**her**_ coronation."

"I won't try to dissuade her," Percy promised. "I want to see my fiancée as well."

"Well then," Triton looked up, deep in thought. "This might work. Of course, as the king of the gods, Jupiter will need to attend as well, and Juno, as Queen of the gods. Neptune is the king of the sea, and so he'll have to attend, especially since he's your father. Salacia wants to be there, as Queen of the Sea. I know Minerva will want to attend as well. I highly doubt I can convince Pluto not to go, which means Prosperina will naturally go..."

At that moment, Percy felt himself pull awake. It was midnight, he could tell, which meant he hadn't been asleep for very long.

It wasn't what he was expecting when he suggested that the invite list be tailored down. Several of the major gods would still be going, including Percy's brothers and sisters, no doubt. But, at least he'd tailored it down some.

'Bah! Politics!' Percy thought, shaking his head.

Sighing, he went back to sleep.

It was time to see his girlfriend.

 **And things are getting more interesting. There is definitely more to come in the future. I'm even thinking of doing a sequel.**

 **Please tell me what you think about a sequel being done.**

 **And please review!**


	10. Chapter 10: The Cave

**I don't own Percy Jackson or the Inheritance Cycle.**

Chapter Ten: The Cave

(Murtagh Point of View)

He hadn't been able to focus the whole day. No matter how much everyone had tried to calm him down, he wasn't able to, and he wasn't able to focus. If this was what being a priest of Apollo was like, he wasn't sure that he liked it. It was a curse!

As they tried to calm him down, all throughout the day, he was refusing. His king was going to die!

Later on, Oromis came to him. Eragon was also there. The were in his tree house, and Oromis sat down on a stool in front of him, concerned. "You mentioned a dream?"

As he looked into his master's eyes, he noticed how concerned the man was. Murtagh nodded. When he realized his ebrithil wanted him to explain, he told everyone, "That cave that Percy wants to go... I think there's something bad there. I saw... I saw..." And he choked, not sure how to explain it.

Closing his eyes, he explained, "I've had dreams before of things, and then they happen. I saw this smoke, in this dream, and it was something evil. It choked him to death."

He purposefully left the part out where Apollo had told him that he'd claimed him as his priest. He wasn't quite ready to confront that. But he was beginning to think that it was inevitable.

A thoughtful look was on everyone's face, and the extremely worried expression on Eragon's face didn't escape Murtagh. "Whatever it was," Murtagh explained. "It wasn't natural."

Oromis wasn't sure what to think. Thorn, who was down below, touched his mind. 'Who's to say that it will happen, though?'

'Does it matter?' Murtagh snapped. 'Like I said, not one of my predictions has yet to fail.'

At that, Thorn was silent.

Anaklusmos was next to contact him. But, she was thoughtful. 'I was created by the ocean,' she reminded him. 'I've been exposed to many demigods and legacies. Sometimes... prophecies are not always what they seem.'

'Mine always come true!' Murtagh snapped.

'Yes,' Anaklusmos acknowledged. 'But, I've seen even in Percy's mind prophecies. They always come true, yes, but not always in the ways we expect.'

Glaedr had been listening in, and he seemed to be considering things. At this moment, everyone's mind was connected. 'What are you saying?' he asked the sea dragon.

Drawing closer to Thorn physically without realizing, and wrapping Thorn with her wing as she was bigger, Anaklusmos explained, 'There are still the words of the prophecy. If Percy dies, he can't be crowned. But the prophecy guaranteed it. I have no doubt that Apollo was trying to communicate something to Murtagh, but that doesn't mean that he was communicating something _**literally**_. Sometimes, with the perspective of time, we'll understand in our entirety what Apollo is trying say.'

Murtagh wasn't sure about this. 'Mine always come true!' he explained, desperate to make them see sense. 'Quite literally! He's going to die!'

'Let's wait,' Anaklusmos proposed. 'Perhaps there is more to this than meets the eyes.'

'It's not like it's symbolic!' and Murtagh was sure. 'It's going to happen!'

Oromis seemed to put some thought in, and for a moment he was exchanging conversation between him and Glaedr alone. Finally, he turned back to Murtagh. "Let's wait, shall we? Perhaps Anaklusmos is right. Perhaps only time will tell whether it should be taken literally or not."

Upset, not liking that he wasn't taken seriously, Murtagh clenched his fists. "It will happen," he muttered, and he was really worried. Percy wasn't coming back.

Eragon placed his hand on Murtagh's shoulder. He knew what Eragon wanted, to distract him.

"Let's do some training, okay?"

(Percy Point of View)

Annabeth was lovely. His Annabeth was lovely. She was standing in front of him, gloriously dressed in armor, on her throne in her empire.

"There's been a lot of changes," Annabeth was telling him. The worry was evident in her eyes. "Ever since the Romans and Greeks have had peace, Camp Half blood has been accepting and gathering Greek legacies. But lately, there's been a surge to find more. For the first time ever the gods have been **_insistent_** that everyone with divinity in them be gathered and claimed, whether as the child or the descendant of a god."

She paused for a minute, in thought. "It's strange. Moreover, there have been rumors going around that it's for war. The gods are wanting the training to increase and they're insisting on us working together with the hunters, the Romans, and the Amazons, and others, coordinating tactics."

Percy felt guilty because he knew why. They were preparing for annihilation, but they were going to fight to the end to ensure that didn't happen.

Annabeth continued, intrigued. "It's just been revealed to us by the gods that all demigods and legacies are legitimately princes and princesses of the gods or goddesses we're children or descendants of. They've told us we're royal and that we're supposed to use our royal status from now on. Apparently, we were born titled, as royalty. It's unheard of! There's murmuring going on because we've never been told before! Although, it appears that the hunters and Amazons have heard this a bit sooner."

"Yeah," Percy admitted, scratching his head. "I was told," he finally admitted to his best friend and fiancée. "Because of the task they wanted me to do. They wanted me to use my princely status as a prince of the sea."

His fiancée was giving him a strange look, knowing that he was holding back. "It's causing some problems in the mortal world, Percy. The mist... it's failing... and we don't know why. Mortals are panicking. And the gods have started interacting with mortals again, demanding worship. Many mortals are already giving in, but now they've revealed their demigodly children and insist we and the legacies be treated as the royalty they are. It's straining for some who have lived in the mortal world without revealing what they are. Already, it's causing separation between us and the humans. Many demigods and legacies have retired to the godly realm because of all of this."

"The mist is failing?" Percy called out in alarm. He didn't see it failing in his land, but no doubt it was connected.

"Yes," Annabeth was worried. "In fact, it's weaker than before. The Olympians said they're funneling what little is left of it to other worlds." At this, she gazed pointedly at Percy.

Nodding, knowing that this was probably for his sake so that he could complete his task, and knowing that the gods had removed the mist temporarily so that the elves could see Ares, Percy knew that there was more he needed to hear from his brother. Triton hadn't told him everything.

Despite this, Percy decided to reveal a bit more to Annabeth. "Since Apollo has already chosen his next priest and currently has a priestess in Alagaesia, I told Eragon that when I became a god, though I used the term "if", I would make him my priest." He blushed a little bit at this, and Annabeth shook her head.

"Isn't he your vassal?"

"Yes," Percy replied.

"So, you're basically continuing that vassalage by making him your priest?"

"He has a good heart!" Percy defended him.

Annabeth burst out laughing, her head going back. Then she was serious. "I have yet to decide who will be my priests or priestesses when I become a goddess, let alone how I will set up my worship."

Percy was silent at that. It was getting time for him to leave anyways. At a look on his fiancée's face, Percy knew she knew as well.

"Stay safe," she whispered to him.

"You as well," Percy whispered back.

His eyes opened to a bright blue sky.

(Eragon Point of View)

Oromis decided to continue their training, despite the fact that Percy was missing. However, things were not smooth. It became dreadfully obvious that Thorn and Anaklusmos were growing closer, and the sea dragon was growing more comfortable around everyone, especially around Thorn. So comfortable was she growing that Eragon felt Saphira's jealousy grow.

She was seething. 'Just because she's the direct creation of the sea doesn't mean that Thorn can't pay attention to me!' Saphira was hissing through the link, watching as the two dragons curled up to each other, listening to Glaedr speak. But she wasn't paying attention, her tail lashing with anger as she glared at the two dragons who were too close for her comfort.

Eragon frowned, not sure how to address it. 'Is friendship bad, Saphira? At least Thorn will feel welcome and things will calm down some.'

Saphira turned to give him an evil eye. 'Am _**I**_ to be left without a mate?'

Glaedr growled, and they both turned back to him. 'Pay attention, hatchlings!'

Saphira was instantly sweet. 'Of course! Why wouldn't I?'

Eragon couldn't help but groan, seeing where this was growing. Was she really going to try to win Thorn's heart by trying to make him jealous? 'Don't do this, Saphira!'

'And why not?' she snapped. 'I may not be a direct creation of the sea, but I **_deserve_** a mate!'

'Oh boy,' Eragon thought, red faced, and Murtagh glanced at him blushing when he saw Eragon's expression. They both knew where this was going. Both dragons were going to fight over Thorn. And poor Murtagh was stuck in the middle of it all due to the fact that he was connected to Thorn.

After all, the way how Thorn was looking so happy, the dragon probably wouldn't have minded. He would have been proud that two females were fighting over _**him**_. Especially since he had used to feel so left out of the loop, being bonded to the Son of Morzan. It would only give him confidence in his position. Only Murtagh would be embarrassed. He would have to be the peace negotiator. And, well, Eragon would be embarrassed as well, trying to get Saphira to see reason.

With a growl, Glaedr rose in flight, and the dragons followed. And it was then that Eragon noticed Saphira was flying unusually close to Glaedr. He knew he should probably have mentioned something to Master Oromis, but he was too embarrassed to say anything.

As he turned back, he noticed the elf staring at him. "Were you paying attention, Eragon?" Oromis was calm.

To his surprise, his brother baled him out as he blushed, instantly sending him the lesson through the mind. "One can instantly kill a man by severing a nerve in the middle of the brain. It takes no more energy than lifting a finger." With a deep breath, he explained how to do it.

Backing off slightly, Oromis nodded, but he was still suspicious, almost like he knew that it had been leaked to him. "Very well, Eragon. But I at least expect you to _**act** _ like you're paying attention."

"Sorry," Eragon blushed again, sending his brother a mental thanks.

'No problem,' Murtagh mentioned, but there was also discomfort there, due to the tension between the dragons.

Suddenly, Eragon felt something across the link. Saphira was angry, and miffed. Murtagh stiffened as well, and Oromis had an unusual expression. Instant concern was on Eragon's face. "Saphira!" he stood up.

Sighing, Oromis stood up, shaking his head. "I think I know what this is about. Glaedr is angry at the moment, but you should go to her. And Murtagh should go as well. No doubt there is more going on than meets the eye."

It took a while for Eragon to convince Saphira to tell him where she was at: on the cliffs. And while Murtagh was busy finding Thorn, Eragon went to Saphira. To his surprise, there was a scratch on her, and no other dragons were around.

She growled when she saw him. 'What happened, Saphira?' he was instantly cautious.

The dragon lashed her tail angrily. 'He refused me!' Saphira finally answered, miffed. 'What? Am I not good enough because I'm not a direct creation of the sea?'

'Thorn refused you?' Eragon was cautious.

'NO!' Saphira snapped. 'The oh so great Glaedr, who has never had a mate in life decides that even though we're the last of our kind, he won't take a mate!'

Ah. There was more going on than met the eye. So, Eragon healed her and only then did he press further. 'Did you... try to mate with Glaedr?'

Saphira growled. That was his answer. And she'd been rejected.

Eragon sighed. 'It's not the most appropriate relationship, considering he's your teacher.'

'And now I'm without a mate!' Saphira snapped, growling again. 'Meanwhile, pretty-ocean-scales gets one!' And Eragon knew she was jealous. But how she had cornered him without the other dragons around, as he could tell had happened, beat him.

'You don't know that they're mates,' Eragon cautioned, and he knew it was only a borderline truth.

'Bah!' the dragon flapped her wings. 'You saw them so cozy earlier! It's only a matter of time!'

'And if they become mates, what then?' Eragon asked. She was proud, he new, but at this point, with the limited number of their species, it would only resort to competition. 'Come now, Saphira, don't you think it's possible that Glaedr also rejected you because he knows you're true objective? That you want a younger mate around your age? And that you're only using him to get Thorn's attention?'

Saphira growled, and at that point, Eragon knew that she wouldn't listen to reason. So, sighing, he enchanted wards around his legs and rode her bareback back to the crags.

(Murtagh Point of View)

It turns out, Saphira was in a bad mood when she got back. Apparently, she'd tried to couple off with Glaedr, though Murtagh suspected the real reason was to provoke jealously in Thorn. Somehow, Anaklusmos had convinced her and Thorn to fly off during the lesson together, (of course how could he tell the pretty dragon no, and Anaklusmos would have known that). And while Glaedr was busy trying to get his students in order, Saphira flew off as well, going the opposite direction. In an effort to track down at least one of his students, he'd gone after Saphira, she being the easier target since she was all alone. And... well... the ending had left Glaedr mad at her.

Anaklusmos was snickering, he could tell. That's when he suspected that she'd set Saphira up, knowing what the younger dragon would probably do. And, with a groan, Murtagh realized it had worked. While it was true that Thorn was elated to finally have some attention, and that both females liked him, at the same time, by Saphira going after Glaedr, it had only made Thorn and Anaklusmos closer.

He wouldn't have wanted a dragon who had tried to convince another dragon to be his mate, let alone tried to mate with him. True, Thorn was elated that he was the center of controversy, but it had made Saphira unattractive now in his eyes. Anaklusmos was faithful to him. And dragons only took one mate. That, and he'd always liked Anaklusmos more. But now, Anaklusmos had secured Thorn to her, and they both knew it. And, Anaklusmos had succeeded in removing a competitor. Thus, the sea dragon had accomplished her designs.

Anaklusmos had played a clever political game and won. What's more, she'd won a mate, if his judgment was sound.

Murtagh wasn't sure how he felt. He knew he should have felt happy for Thorn. But, he only knew that more problems would be in the future, due to Saphira's jealousy. That, and he wasn't sure how he felt about his bonded being romantically involved. Instead, he chose not to think of it.

Thorn and Anaklusmos were by each others sides, and Murtagh walked up to them, smiling slightly. Maybe it was for the best, that Thorn have a companion. Anaklusmos looked triumphant, but Thorn had a content look to his face. 'So,' he asked the dragons. 'Is it official?'

'Is _**what**_ official?' Anaklusmos snapped, and Murtagh flinched. The dragon was easily offended.

'You two... aren't a couple?'

'NO!' Anaklusmos snapped. But she glanced with hesitation at Thorn. 'Unless, he wants...'

'Really?' was Thorn's immediate reaction, and Murtagh couldn't help but grown. He wasn't even six months yet. But he would be in a few months. 'You'd accept me?'

'Of course!' Anaklusmos answered in pride, acting like she was miffed that he would suggest that she wouldn't accept him.

At that point, Murtagh decided to step in. 'He's still a child,' Murtagh reminded the sea dragon. 'He's not even old enough to mate yet.'

'Doesn't matter,' Anaklusmos snapped. 'I can wait!'

That's when Murtagh realized: she was trying to claim him as her mate before he reached maturity, that way he was hers for sure.

'Okay,' Murtagh was awkward, not sure that he wanted to even think about these things. 'But in all honesty, we should go back to the lessons.'

He mounted Thorn and they went back to their teacher's house.

(Saphira Point of View)

'Pretty little sea scales,' Saphira was growling to herself, eyeing the too close Thorn and Anaklusmos, tail lashing. Glaedr was back but was refusing to teach, and Oromis was still trying to calm his dragon down. Saphira growled again, Eragon shifting uncomfortably. While he couldn't hear her thoughts he knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. 'Did you really think this was over?'

She was mad at Anaklusmos. That little sea rat! And she called herself a dragon?

It wasn't until Saphira had calmed down that she had been able to think through things. And it wasn't until she had thought through things that Saphira realized that she'd been set up. The little sea scales had made sure her advances to Glaedr were obvious to all. And now, she'd lost the possibility of a mate. She could tell: Thorn wasn't interested in her anymore. Maybe as a friend, but he wanted nothing to do with her romantically anymore. Now that she'd tried to mate with Glaedr, she was unattractive to him, an unsuitable mate. And Anaklusmos had known this was going to happen.

The little rat called sea scales was smug. She kept shooting Saphira a triumphant look. She and Thorn were now closer together and were snuggling. And though Thorn was still too young to mate it was obvious: they were mates.

Saphira growled. She'd been outplayed. While Eragon had reassured her that there was still time, that Thorn was not mature enough yet, and that she could still turn it around, Saphira knew otherwise. Her two legged companion didn't understand dragon ways. When the time came and Thorn was mature enough, he and Anaklusmos would mate. There was no way around it now. They were a couple. Thorn wanted nothing to do with her when it came to being mates. He Anaklusmos were official, as Percy would call it. For dragons, once you took a mate, you didn't go back. She had no hope to be with Thorn.

It irked her to no reason. 'Pretty little sea scales,' she seethed once more, discontent and unhappy. Anaklusmos was still looking smug, and she seemed to like throwing it into Saphira's face, not only that Thorn was hers now, but that she had a mate and Saphira didn't.

'Pretty little sea scales,' Saphira growled once more, laying her head down. It was no use. She'd lost the battle to the sea dragon. And, she'd been rejected of the only other mate she could have: Glaedr.

Eragon's mind touched hers. 'Don't worry,' though she could tell he was worried. 'I'm sure... there's someone for you.'

Saphira snorted. 'We're the only dragons, Eragon. I'm very well aware of my predicament.'

'What about the green egg?' he reminded her.

Saphira snorted again. ' ** _If_** it ever hatches,' and she threw all of her doubt in. 'Face it, Eragon! I'm the loneliest dragon in the world!'

Eragon was hesitant. 'You have me,' he reminded her.

'That I do,' Saphira grunted.

At this point, Saphira observed that Glaedr and Oromis were arguing. Glaedr growled at his rider and his thoughts were broadcast to all. Wings spread, he growled, yelling, 'I will do _**nothing**_ until these **_hatchlings_** learn to give **_proper respect_**!' He lifted off and was into the sky.

Oromis sighed, shaking his head. Then, he turned to his students, glaring at the dragons especially. But little ocean scales didn't seem to care. She seemed smug. She had a mate and Saphira didn't.

Oromis's thoughts were for all to hear. They were worded very deliberately. ' ** _Perhaps_** it would be best if we had a lesson instead on **_respect_**.'

Eragon was frozen. Murtagh was wide eyed, blushing and clearly embarrassed, even though it was directed primarily to the dragons. Oromis walked closer to the group. 'I know that there are very few dragons in the world, and that it doesn't seem fair that some would miss out. _**However**_ this doesn't change the fact that we are the teachers and you are the students. There needs to be some proper boundaries.'

His next words were directed at Anaklusmos, and he was looking directly at her. 'We all need to get along if we want to defeat Galbatorix. Alienating other members of the group helps no one.'

Anaklusmos growled at him, miffed. But Murtagh turned around and had a few words with her. The dragoness calmed down.

Oromis turned to Saphira and Eragon next. 'You would do wise to pay better attention to your lessons. They could end up saving your life. Worry about relationships later, please.' That's when Saphira knew that Oromis was including Arya into the picture, whom it was dead clear that Eragon had a crush on. Eragon seemed to pick up on this blushed.

Oromis walked up to Thorn. 'Sometimes, learning tact is better. We don't need to have others feeling left out. You should know what that feels like, considering what you've told me.' Thorn held his head in shame.

Finally, Oromis stopped in front of Murtagh, arms folded. 'Bailing others out by giving them the lesson not only is improper, but it doesn't help them learn. You are to let others learn on their own. Am I understood?'

Murtagh blushed and nodded his head, knowing that it was useless since he'd been caught. Oromis had known. He'd guessed correctly.

Next, Oromis looked at them all. 'Am I understood?' he asked the group.

'Yes, ebrithil,' they all acknowledged, reluctant.

Oromis nodded. 'Good,' and he sat down. 'I will be going over the old dragon and rider courtesies today for my lesson.'

Immediately, they all groaned and Oromis raised an eyebrow. 'What? Upset that you'll finally be learning some manners for once?'

There was grumbling, none the less Oromis began. 'I will be asking questions at the end of the lesson,' he warned. And with a glance at Murtagh, he added, 'I expect you all to learn of your own accord. No bailing anyone out.'

They groaned again.

(Murtagh Point of View)

He didn't know why Anaklusmos had taken Thorn as a mate so suddenly, but he thought he finally understood. The dragon had finally realized what she wanted, and was jealous of Saphira. It had probably happened when Thorn had taken her to Murtagh. They'd bonded over Percy and their worry over him, which had probably touched Anaklusmos enough to soften her heart and accept Thorn. So, she'd moved quickly. She was still in denial though, acting like she'd never been in denial that she wanted Thorn. She was a proud dragon, prouder than Saphira even.

Saphira was still glaring and growling at Anaklusmos in the middle of the lesson when Oromis had interrupted. " _ **Enough**_!" he was firm. "Save your anger for your enemies!"

Saphira was still miffed, and Anaklusmos didn't look happy. Anaklusmos didn't like being interrupted in her smug reactions.

Oromis was red with anger. "If I am to teach a new generation of dragons and riders," he spoke slowly, voice controlled but with anger. "Then I _**will**_ have respect."

That sobered them all up. Anaklusmos immediately stopped and Saphira set her anger aside for the moment. The last thing they wanted was to anger their teacher to where he kicked them out and refused to teach them.

Needless to say, despite some grumbling, they all set their quarrels aside for now. Not even Anaklusmos would taunt Saphira, even subtly.

Oromis kept an eye on them the entire lesson. When he was done, he promptly dismissed them, insisting that they stay away from him for the rest of the day. "I need to unwind," he said.

The knew they would be wise to follow his council.

(Brom Point of View)

Being back at the Varden was demanding. The council was reluctant and grumbling about his leaving, and while he understood, he knew where his priorities should lie. Needless to say, they had been causing him problems.

Jormunder was supportive, and was Trianna. However, many on the council were not. They were only allowing of him to be the leader because it was what the people thought best and they'd get complaints otherwise. That, and they definitely didn't want Nasuada. Plus, as the founder of the Varden, it was his right.

He knew their reasoning. He'd been traveling with Percy. He seemed to know Percy better. While they still weren't sure that he would work against him, they didn't want to take the risk of Nasuada, who probably would, and quite openly. And he had the right to lead the Varden since he had originally founded it. He had more claim than Nasuada did. The others knew that as well, and thus he was chosen.

Integrating the magicians was hard. They didn't belong to the Varden, per se, but they were allies. What's more, many were religious. Trianna supported him, but that was only because he had interacted more with Percy than anyone in the Varden. But the other magicians were wary of him, and without Percy's backing in the public light, seeing as he only backed him secretly, it couldn't be helped.

Knowing that he was going to eventually have to face religion if he wanted to maintain control of an organization that could fall apart, he decided that it would best be sooner than later. So, he sent the following letter around.

'I assure everyone that I won't go against Percy,' he promised in it. 'I am well aware of the prophecy and Percy's significance in it. I may not have grown up with religion, as a dragon rider, but I have been exposed to it, and I do respect it, and you're beliefs.'

There was some grumbling, but that seemed to do the job.

Currently, he was in the leader's study, going over some vital documents. He highly doubted that the Twins were the only traitors. It was time to ferret them out.

Then, there was the problem of Murtagh. The man still had yet to choose his side. While he couldn't outright say that the Varden had another rider, he could say safely that they had another potential alley. Murtagh had fought with them. But would he fight again?

'To decide or not to decide?' Brom thought to himself. He didn't want his stepson to think he was a puppet, because he wasn't. And then there was Eragon. He had yet to declare a side. He highly suspected where his son sided, though, since he seemed to follow Percy's directions. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He suspected, though, that somehow Percy had some sort of authority over him in his eyes. 'Probably because he views Percy as his king.'

Murtagh, his stepson, 'No, son,' Brom thought. He was Selena's, so as far as he was concerned, even if Murtagh didn't agree, Murtagh was his son. Murtagh seemed to be going through an unusual phase. When he'd asked, Percy had mentioned something. Murtagh was chosen by one of the gods to be a priest, but he hadn't been officially taken yet.

That complicated things. But, it also meant that it was highly possibly that he'd side with Percy rather than the Varden.

Leaning back, knowing that Percy had given his blessing to lead the Varden, (though it was in private, and much, much later after his appointment), he realized that he needed to make it good to the demigod. He wanted Galbatorix gone.

First things first though: he needed to make sure there was a succession. That way, if something happened, if he couldn't finish his work, then someone else could finish it for him.

His first thoughts were on Percy. And yet, the moment he thought that, he knew Percy would refuse again. His next thoughts were his own son, who had the right, by inheritance. But, Eragon was too young and naive. Then he came to Murtagh. Murtagh had more experience. However, would they accept the son of Morzan to lead?

Brom frowned. 'Technically, since I've taken Murtagh as my son, he is the firstborn. It would naturally be _**his**_ right. Even if I let Eragon have the leadership, at least Murtagh could guide him.'

Both solutions posed problems, however. Despite proving himself, it might be harder for many still to reconcile the son of a forsworn leading them. And Eragon wasn't even ready. Even if he adopted Murtagh, it might stop recruitment, even if he had the heart of the Varden and was a dragon rider. Yes, it might be intriguing to many that the son of Morzan would side with Galbatorix's enemy, but there were still many who would be wary of him. So what to do? Eragon didn't understand politics yet and might make some hefty mistakes.

Shaking his head, regretting that he'd let someone else raise his son, he thought things through. But was this his only option?

That's when it hit him: there was no requirement that there had to be one leader. What if there were two?

Murtagh was the son of Morzan, even if he was adopted. That would hamper things. But Eragon's bloodline could fix that. As the son of Brom by birth, he would have the confidence of the people more. Eragon, should Murtagh say no to adoption, was the rightful heir of Brom, and thus the Varden. And, his bloodline wouldn't hamper recruiting. However, he lacked experience and was naive. Murtagh seemed to understand politics and could guide his brother, teach him even. And, he had experience.

And so, Brom did the first thing that the Varden had ever experienced in history: he appointed two leaders to lead simultaneously should something happen to him. Eragon and Murtagh would lead jointly and make decisions jointly.

He knew the boys could get along and he'd seen that they worked well together. It would be advantageous in every way for both to lead jointly.

"Yes," he murmured. "It's right."

He got started writing his will and his direction on the succession in the Varden.

That left the next problem. Say he survived. What was he going to do then? He may not be a dragon rider anymore, but he was still bound to the order, which was quickly springing up again. Thus, he would still have duties in this new order. He would be needed to train new riders. But how would things work once Percy was on the throne? Where would the riders go? What would Oromis, the leader, want to do?

Shaking his head, he decided to decide on that another time. There was no use thinking about that now.

(Vanir Point of View)

The godling still wasn't back. Whatever it was that he was doing, Vanir hoped he would be done soon.

the next day, following the tensions going around from the previous day, Vanir decided to head over (did Saphira really try to couple off with Glaedr?)When the riders and the dragons had gotten out of their lessons, he was curious enough to see what they would do. And so, he met them where Oromis was at.

Oromis didn't look to happy. But he could also feel the tension in the group. Apparently they were still tense, even after a day's break. Trading greetings with all of them, he noticed that the sea dragon was playing a rock, using her claws to manipulate it.

Tilting his head, he asked the dragon, "Why are you playing with that rock? What are you shaping it into?"

Oromis looked confused and puzzled. "Dragons knead dirt all the time. You know that Vanir."

Vanir turned back in confusion. "No, but why rocks? They don't play with rocks."

'There are no rocks,' Anaklusmos was confident, and Vanir looked at her in confusion, not sure why she would say that when it was dead obvious that it was a rock she was clawing at, chipping slowly away at it. Was she trying to form something with it?

Murtagh seemed confused. "But," he murmured, and when Murtagh did this, Eragon frowning, like he didn't know what to believe. "Vanir's right."

Feeling justified, he turned back to the elder rider who was still puzzled, but the dragoness seemed to be scrutinizing Vanir further. Finally, she asked, scratching at a stick further away, 'What do you see, Vanir?'

"A stick," both Vanir and Murtagh replied at the same time.

Oromis hesitated, shaking his head. "I see a mushroom."

Anaklusmos chuckled. 'Vanir and Murtagh are both right.' And with that, something happened and Oromis gasped, looking at the dragoness in surprise. Eragon looked more satisfied, like it all made sense now. But Vanir was confused.

Oromis looked up. Glaedr had pure surprise on his face. He'd been observing the exchange quietly, and as the turn of events grew more interesting, he studied the dragoness further. "How did you do that?" Oromis asked.

'The mist,' Anaklusmos responded. 'He is like Thorn and Murtagh. He can see through the mist.'

"Mist?" Oromis echoed.

Murtagh decided to explain more, surprised that his dragon could. 'Can all dragons?'

Anaklusmos shook her head. 'It's rare for every species. But there are always some. Like me, Vanir, Murtagh, and Thorn can see things as they really are. I can see through because I'm a direct creation of the sea goddess. Percy can see through because he's divine, and all those divine can. Percy taught me how to manipulate the mist. He said it might come in handy.'

'Mist?' Glaedr echoed his rider, looking interested. Saphira growled, no doubt because it was more that Thorn had in common with Anaklusmos that she didn't, but didn't say anything more. Vanir knew something must have happened between the dragonesses. That, and rumors had come around that Thorn and Anaklusmos had coupled off, much to Saphira's disliking.

'Mist,' Anaklusmos confirmed. 'It shields the ordinary from being able to see the divine things, especially clearly. It can disguise it as other things. Ares had to lift the mist so that the elves could see him.'

At this point, Vanir was stumped. "Well, that answers that question," Murtagh commented, dusting his pants off as he raised up off of the ground. "Arya was wondering if there were elves who would have that gift. Percy suspected there would be. Now we've found one. And why didn't anyone tell me about Thorn having it?'

'I found out this morning,' Anaklusmos was smug. 'I tried to manipulate the mist to play with him, make him see something that wasn't there. It didn't work. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why the two of you bonded so easily as you are both clear sighted.' And for some reason it seemed like she was subtly throwing a jibe at someone in the group. Saphira growled. It must be her she was doing it to.

"But why were you playing with the rock?" Vanir wanted to know. It wasn't usual dragon behavior, as far as he knew.

Anaklusmos got up and shook herself. 'Don't know,' she muttered. 'When I was young, there was more seashells and rocks than there were grass. I was raised on a beach.'

"Oh," Vanir replied, trying to be polite. Perhaps it was her way of adapting to a different environment. The dragoness was very interesting, being unlike any dragons he had heard about.

Glaedr seemed to be in thought. 'This could come in very useful someday.'

Already, Anaklusmos was gleaming, looking proud. 'It already has.'

(Brom Point of View)

They were currently in meeting. While the dwarves still wanted to house the Varden, at the same time the financial position of the Varden was not so good, and King Hrothgar and no intention of supporting all the rebels with the dwarves' wealth.

It was a headache for Brom. He'd known that the leaders that he'd appointed afterwords hadn't taken care of finances, but he'd never realized it was this bad.

Seated at the head of a table in a small room, Brom had left the council out of this, tired of them. He was only considering trusted advisors whom he'd just appointed.

Jormundur was on the list. He was looking at the cut budget, his figure upset. "How do you expect to fight a war without funding?"

"I was able to do it before," Brom was firm. "And we'll do it again. But, we will loose for certain without money. I've put some for now in investing, knowing that will increase the wealth eventually. However, that doesn't help us in the long term. Only industry will."

"And what do you have planned?" the military commander eyed him.

Keeping a straight face, not giving away his emotions, Brom admitted, "Trade with the empire has been difficult. However, there are still the elves and dwarves. And there's Surda. We've not been making good use of the talents possessed by the Varden. Those under the direct employ of the Varden aren't managing their posts or being productive like they should. The first thing I intend to do is fire those that are merely living for wages and aren't truly working. Then, I will hire only what is needed to produce. Then, we sell."

"Sell," another female councilor asked, unimpressed.

Brom was patient. "We've not been selling at the price we could. That's not doing us any favors. I intend to raise prices to where they should be."

"And when no one will buy?" was the challenge.

"They will," Brom was firm. "You have to remember, I managed the Varden's finances for years when I founded it, before I handed it off. That, and I was trained in business in Illeria. I know what to do. You have to communicate value, which I can."

"And then?" Jormundur pitched in. "When people are complaining because they're fired?"

Brom snorted. "Are you saying we should just let people take wages? No. Like it or not, even though the resistance is a force for fighting, we are also a business, and we have to act like a business. People will work, or they will not eat. The leaders have been soft for years. But softness doesn't win a war. Now it's time for people to pitch in."

"It sounds like you're already decided," another female councilor was miffed. "Why ask us here, then?"

"Because," Brom stood up, knowing that they were basically pulling a tantrum because he was changing the status quo. "You will be the ones to do the evaluations among those employed by the Varden directly. And you will bring a list of people who aren't doing their jobs for me to cut."

"I oversee the army," Jormundur pointed out. "Employment isn't in duties."

"It is now," Brom was sharp. "Besides, you have many who are employed to the Varden who are working directly under your command. From now on, people must work for their keep. And while you mention it, Jormundur, I want you to see that the weapon makers increase output of weapons. We can sell spares to Surda."

The council was grumbling now, but Brom didn't care. Part of being leader was making the difficult decisions, and that he could do. Looking over the council, having nothing more to say, he ground out, "Dismissed."

Everybody got up and walked out. Brom sat down and leaned back in his chair. It was going to be a long day.

(A couple of days later)

(Percy Point of View)

Percy continued to journey further and further on Blackjack. While he could still feel his dragon's emotions, and knew that something had happened, at the same time he knew that Anaklusmos wasn't in danger.

'Something wrong?' Blackjack asked.

'No,' Percy frowned, keeping his eye on the horizon. They had journeyed so far already. It was several days in and at the speed they were going, Percy knew they would be there soon. 'It's more like I know that Anaklusmos was miffed about something. Then smug.'

'What do you think about?' Blackjack asked.

Shrugging, Percy replied, 'It doesn't really matter, as long as she's fine. She can take care of herself.'

There was silence after that as Percy thought on what Annabeth had told him. The mist was failing. He had no doubt that it was being funneled to help him in his task. But wasn't that a risk, with the Titan? Would she be able to detect the changes?

His thoughts strayed to Brom, wondering how he was managing the Varden. Brom was a capable man, no doubt. He would be able to get things in order. But, as his thoughts went to the Varden, he snorted, thinking about how disorganized their military was. 'It's a wonder they've survived all these years. Even we Greeks are more organized than they.'

Briefly deciding whether he should teach them some demigod military tactics, he decided against it. 'Something on you're mind?' Blackjack asked.

'Just thinking,' Percy considered. "They're really different from demigods. They're not really organized in their military, for one.'

'No,' Blackjack agreed. 'They're disorganized and they have no discipline. But can you really blame them? None of them have been in the military.'

'They just need someone to train them,' Percy thought, in thinking mode again. He highly doubted they would be able to handle the rigor of demigod training tactics, especially since they were so deadly. Demigods and legacies could handle more. 'Then again, I don't really have the time to train them.'

'Then make due with what you have,' Blackjack suggested.

'They were never really made to fight things in the godly realm,' Percy considered again. 'That's what demigods and legacies are for. We are able to fight more difficult things.'

'So true,' the pegasus agreed.

It was lunch time, so Percy had Blackjack set down briefly. Then he pulled out his meal, a sandwich. Boy, how he missed these!

When he was done, he looked at the horizon. They'd been following the river which they knew would lead them to the cave, eventually. The cave was only a few miles away from the river, from what he could tell from Durza's memories.

Sending his thoughts in that direction, he thought, 'I wonder what we'll find there.' And he was worried. Blackjack, however, seemed grin.

'I guess we'll find out.'

(Brom Point of View)

The moment the firings had been announced, he'd been receiving complaints and backlash. He'd known it would come. But, he only had intention of keeping productive workers. The people who just lazed around and barely did anything, in essence, socializing, were the first to receive the cut.

"How will I provide for my family?!" one worker who had been cut had yelled at him as he was walking through Tronjheim.

Brom was firm. "Compared to the others, you made how many weapons? And yet you expect to receive the wages of those that work?" He knew exactly who this man was. The man was known for complaining about his work, if he did any work at all.

Brom then faced the man again. "There are lots of private businesses amongst the Varden. I suggest you seek for employment among them. Or, you can start your own business."

The man had thrown apples at him with fellow comrades whose jobs had been cut, but the bounced off effortlessly of Brom's wards. He walked away. They would be reprimanded later for their acts. But now, he had a meeting with the dwarven king in order to renegotiate trade. And later in the week, the King of Surda would be arriving under the guise of negotiating trade with the dwarves.

When he was invited in the stone room, King Hrothgar was already seated at the table. The king stood up and motioned for him to sit. He seemed rather amused. "I take it, if that racket was anything to go by, that that was one of the people that were cut?"

Brom nodded. "I understand him, in a way. But in all honesty, does he expect to do little and get paid?"

"Aye," the dwarf king agreed with him. "I've long counseled Ajihad that if he wanted to get finances under control, then he needed to cut people, preferably those who were less productive. But he wouldn't agree."

"It is a hard thing for some to do," Brom acknowledged. "Ajihad was a father. He pitied those who would be without work, and what they would do for their families."

"Aye," Hrothgar agreed, eyeing him carefully. "But you're a father to. And, in many ways, with my nephew, so am I. Yet we both could make the cuts."

"It is not easy, though," Brom admitted. "It is not without pity for them that I do this."

"But without hard decisions, no country, or rebel group will make it," Hrothgar was grim. He eyed Brom in satisfaction. "I was always upset when you gave the Varden away. I always saw you as the best leader."

"You have to understand," Brom pointed out. "I was a rider. I was trained by the elves and others in business. They knew many things, including money management."

"Indeed," Hrothgar was gruff. "They're tough traders. They know how to make a profit and a living. I seem to recall that the same was true of the human riders, due to the fact that the elves and their dragons were the ones primarily in control of the riders."

"Not enough time had passed for a human to get on the council," Brom acknowledged. "Even then, being trained with the history they were, I don't think it would have made much of a difference.

Chuckling, Hrothgar agreed, "No, I don't think so either."

"And so here we are," Brom led the conversation to where he was wanting. "Back at negotiating trade."

"Aye."

Hrothgar left it at him to open the deal. Considering, Brom proposed, "The Varden has rented many mines from the dwarves. Moreover, I am aware, that with the political landscape, that though the dwarves are excellent at producing weapons, at the same time, the political landscape is making it... hard... to manufacture weapons. So, my proposal is this. Instead of renting the mines, how about we buy the raw material from the dwarves instead? In use for making weapons and other needful things? In exchange, we take precedence in trade with Surda, since we are giving up raw resources."

"An interesting proposition," Hrothgar thought. He put both hands together, considering. "I can see how this would be advantageous for the Varden. It would reduce expenses considerably, as the dwarves are able to maneuver the mines better and output more raw resources than the humans can. At the same time, I think it would interrupt our own trade when it comes to dwarven made goods."

Brom had been expecting this, but this was just to warm the dwarven king up to his real proposition. Trying one more time, before revealing his real proposition, he offered, "Then a joint venture, perhaps? In the making of weapons?"

"I'll agree to revert the mines back to the dwarves for the production of raw resources, especially at a time as this," Hrothgar countered. "But, a joint venture is not my in my people's best interest either."

That's when Brom knew he would have the deal he really wanted. "Then perhaps, a trade off? The mines revert back to the dwarves for a slight reduction of the price of raw goods? Perhaps three quarters of the asking price? You can output more than we can, and you'll be selling more. Plus, since we're not able to come to terms in regards to Surda, it would seem only fair."

Once more, Hrothgar considered. He seemed to be calculating whether there would be a financial gain or loss. Brom knew the answer, but he also knew, when it came to trade, that he needed to make this deal seem more valuable, or Hrothgar might maneuver to where the deal was less advantageous for the Varden.

As he considered more, coming to the conclusion Brom wanted, he countered, "At seven eighths the price."

Brom considered. It was reasonable. And with having a more productive work force since he'd made it clear that he wouldn't accept slackers, getting raw resources at seven eighths the price would still allow room for a substantial profit. And, it was cheaper than actually renting the mines. This meant it was mutually advantageous to both the dwarves and the Varden.

"Very well," Brom stood up. "I accept."

Hrothgar smiled and stood up. "It's a pleasure to do business with you."

"And you as well," Brom murmured. He nodded to the dwarven king.

A contract was brought forth, and they both read the contract. After reading it, Brom was satisfied with it. Waiting for the king to finish, he saw that the dwarven king was satisfied with it as well. "I will sign," he grunted in agreement.

With both the king's signature, and Brom's, the deal was official.

Hrothgar led him out.

"Let's attend to war business."

(Percy Point of View)

They were close. That much Percy knew. Because of that, part of Percy's gut clenched, knowing that he was so near a Titan that perhaps the fact that he had human in him wouldn't be enough to conceal the Olympian in him.

Blackjack's ear twitched. 'I'm bringing us out of the clouds,' he informed Percy. Percy grunted his consent.

The last remnants of the river were seen below them, and it turned away to the left. Percy and his pegasus continued straight, looking for the tell tale signs of the cave.

At this point, Percy thought that it was pointless to be in the air. 'Plus, I need time to mentally prepare,' he told his steed. And so, he was set down.

They continued on land at this point, Percy ever vigilante, always looking out for some tell tale sign of Greek architecture, or perhaps ruins or something. However, nothing of the sort was spotted. All it was was plains for a fair amount of time. The smell of wild roses and other wild flowers reached his nose, telling him that this place was unnaturally in a spring.

He heard the bubbling of a spring beneath them, and that was when Percy began considering that perhaps they were closer than he realized. While he didn't see any tell tale signs of a cave, that didn't mean anything.

The flat land turned to hills, and the hills became rocky. The hair on Percy's neck stood up. They were close. Finally, straight ahead, he the rocks jotted straight up into the distance, becoming towering cliffs.

They took to the air once more to cover ground, Percy looking out for any opening in the rocks. But he didn't see any, puzzling him. 'Do you think it's hidden?' he asked his steed.

Blackjack neighed. 'There are trees below,' he pointed out. 'It's entirely possible the entrance is hidden amongst the rocks beneath the cliff.'

Percy considered for a moment whether or not he should land. But, after circling the cliffs several times, and finding nothing, (and there weren't that many anyways as it was like giant hill, Percy decided to land. Obeying, Blackjack landed lightly and they were in a trot, circling at the base of the towering rocks.

Circling the base of the rocks took an hour, and they found no entrance. Yet, this place matched Durza's description. Percy could tell the shade hadn't been lying. This was the place. So, why couldn't they find anything?

'Slow down for a bit,' Percy requested, and Percy leapt off the saddle, heading straight for the cliffs that towered above them. He felt the rock, knowing it would be unwise to use his power in such a place. It was soft and crumbled slightly before coming to harder rock beneath. Knocking on the rock, he heard no hollowness. Sighing, he got back on his pegasus. 'We'll just have to ride around again, see if we spot anything else.'

Part way through their circling, they came across some vines again, and Percy got out of the saddle. Feeling through the vines, he met nothing but hardness, until...

"Oof!" Percy exclaimed as he fell through the opening into a hollow entrance. Blackjack snickered and Percy glared. Sighing, he got up, dusted his jeans, and worked with his sword to slash the vines down. When he was done, dragging it out of the way so no one would trip, Percy realized that it wouldn't take long for the vines to grow back.

There was nervous apprehension in Percy's guts. He turned back to Blackjack, trying to hide his uncertainty. 'Stay here,' he told his old friend, and glanced into the black distance ahead of him. 'I'm going in alone.'

'Be careful,' Blackjack whispered to him with concern.

'Will do,' Percy promised. He took a deep breath in, let it out, and then uncapped riptide to give him some light. Then, he tentatively stepped into the cave for what was perhaps his most dangerous mission yet. Briefly saying a prayer to Zeus to grant him safety, he entered, his eyes easily adjusting to the lack of light and seeing further than an elf could.

Then, tapping his left wrist where a wristwatch was that housed his Greek set, he was clothed immediately in his Greek plate armor. He put the helmet, which had appeared under his arm, on his head. It was a gift from Tyson, who had made it in addition to his Greek shield watch which was on his other arm. He had a Roman pair as well, one wristwatch giving him the plate armor and the other giving him a Roman shield. He left the shield/wristwatch on his right arm untapped, deciding that if there was danger, he'd open his shield if need be.

It was nice to be instantly clothed in armor, having all the knives and necessary attachments already strapped to him. It also helped him psychologically, as it was something familiar in this unfamiliar place.

The cave was plain. A high ceiling towered above him, and the entrance, though round, didn't go beyond a few feet. Beyond that roundness was a corridor, or so it seemed, carved into the cave. Seeing there was only one place to head, he went to the back of the cave and entered the hallway.

It branched to the right and left. Knowing he didn't want to get lost, Percy used his sword to carve an X on the left side, opting to try that side first. Then, he continued down the entrance, into the unknown. A short time later, he carved another X, hoping that this wouldn't somehow disappear or anything.

The whole time, Percy couldn't help but be paranoid. The cave was creepy and let of a dangerous, unusual feeling. And as the cave grew darker, Percy's sword seemed to glow brighter. The whole time Percy continued down the tunnel, though he couldn't help the feeling that he was being watched. And Percy knew to trust his instincts.

The cave seemed to breath, as a breeze was always coming into his face. The walls narrowed, squeezing him in further and further. Finally, he could go no further, having reached a dead end. Sighing, he went back and went down the right entrance instead, carving an O this time. Then, he went a little ways in and carved another O.

This time, the wind was at his back. It made no sense. There shouldn't have been a draft. Then again, this cave housed a Titan, supposedly, so it made sense that there would be unusual and inexplicable occurrences.

Continuing deeper and deeper, Percy glanced behind him several times, making sure he wasn't being followed. But, he couldn't see anything. That still didn't make him feel any easier, nor did it diminish the feeling that he was being watched.

Eventually the tunnel turned to the right, and it began sloping. That's when Percy knew he was being led deeper and deeper. The elevation dropped and Percy grew colder. But, the padding that was underneath his armor, which had appeared with his armor when he tapped his wristwatch, provided some protection from the cold.

As Percy continued further, he still couldn't stifle the feeling that he was being watched. And so, he kept glancing behind him, and yet he would see no one. That didn't reassure him though, and he kept as vigilante as ever, looking out for any sign of danger.

Once more, things grew darker and darker, though Percy could still see. It also made his sword appear brighter than it was. But, eventually, the a light came into view, and Percy stopped considering things. He tried to listen hard, seeing if there was life in the cave at all. Hearing nothing, he edged forward tentatively. Glancing behind him once more, he stepped into the entrance that glowed with a reddish purple light, and he was amazed at the sight before him.

The cave was full of scrolls. Many of them were written in the ancient languages of Alageasia. But they were older than anything, some dating back to the time when the Olympians still held the world. Percy, who had been forced to learn the languages of Alagaesia was glad that he could read it. The gods had kept track of language and social changes, and thus they were able to pass that on to him.

Still, other scrolls were written in Ancient Greek, which he was quite familiar with, the easiest language for him to read. No Latin was present, though, which made sense. The Roman culture hadn't even come to fruition at this time. These scrolls probably came from the old world, or at least that was what Percy suspected.

Strange objects were also housed in the room, and Percy knew better than to trust those. The creepy feeling was also intensified in this very room, another corridor leading away from the room, opposite the one that Percy had entered.

Knowing that he was here to investigate, Percy stepped up and began reading on of the scrolls all without setting his sword down. He wanted to be ready at a moment's notice should he need to defend himself.

The story told about an ancient elf on an old continent, not the one Percy was currently on. It was about his travels in a ship, which made sense, since the elves were renowned for traveling in ships. According to the story, the elf had met some trouble when Oceanus, (or the elvish name for Oceanus), had caused trouble, a massive storm created. He'd threatened the elfling with death for trespassing on his waters. The elf then prayed to Poseidon, who appeared and engaged in combat with Oceanus. After winning, Poseidon made the waters calm again.

But that wasn't what caught Percy's interest the most. He wondered if this elf had descendants in Alagaesia, for his name was Ormius. 'Hm,' Percy thought. 'Ormius sounds a lot like Oromis. Could this be where the rider's name sake comes from?'

It was interesting, but not what Percy was looking for. And as the feelings intensified that he was being watched, he hurried through the scrolls, desperate to find anything about the Titan he was looking for. He didn't even have a name.

As he researched, intriguingly he found no reference to demigods. Some of these scrolls clearly came from the time after the Olympians had put the Titan to sleep, but before they'd left for the old world. Percy had been told by Tritan that demigods didn't start coming around until after she had been put to sleep, and that the race of demigods was new and up and coming when the Olympians had loaned the world. So, it appears there had never been time for the Olympians to have demigod children in this world. But, Angela, who would have had contact with his world, would have known about them, being a priestess to Apollo. Perhaps that was the only reason she knew.

But he still didn't trust that his Olympian ichor wouldn't be sensed. So, having read what he could, he stopped as he felt a presence approaching. Looking towards the corridor that he hadn't entered, he was surprised when a young female human came into view, in a simple tunic dress with sleeves. She had blonde, curly hair, and was fairly thin in frame. She also looked like she'd never held a weapon in her life.

She watched him observantly with her blue eyes. Vaguely, in the back of Percy's mind, he remembered the shade mentioning a woman trapped in ice.

To his surprise, she spoke in the human Alagaesian tongue. "Can you read that?"

Percy remained expressionless. "Who are you?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're trespassing in my cave, and you're asking who _**I**_ am?"

"Yes," Percy replied stiffly.

Frowning, she considered him. "I'm no one of consequence," she finally replied.

"Well, forgive me if I don't believe you."

Then, she paused. "Are you here to see her?"

"Her?" Percy asked carefully.

"The lady trapped in ice?" the woman offered.

The back of Percy's mind was wondering what on earth this woman was doing in a dangerous environment. But, seeing that it might be easier to play along, he replied, carefully guarding his emotions, "Yes."

She turned around and entered the corridor she had exited. She had sandles on, and Percy, who vaguely realized that it might be intimidating to find an armored man in a place you lived, followed her.

The corridor twisted and winded, and led down even further. Finally, it opened up, and there was a blue light. 'Durza never mentioned a second woman,' Percy vaguely thought, well aware that there was more going on.

The vast expanse of the room was filled with ice, and deep inside, there was a woman, frozen, beautiful. She had red, long hair, and her eyes were closed. The woman who had led him stood in front of it, serene, and her hand touched the ice softly. She gazed at the other woman.

Percy stepped closer, investigating. "Who is she?" he dared to ask.

Not looking at him at all, she murmured, "The high priestess of Cleace."

Some part of Percy wondered if that was the name of the Titan. "And you are a priestess?" Percy dared to ask.

"I am a servant to the priestess," she offered. "But I'm no priestess. I've been looking after her for a very long time. Only one other has come here in recent times, a man with red eyes. I stayed out of his way. But you... you're different. You might be able to wake her. At least, that's what the voice says."

"Voice?" Percy questioned, though he had no intention of waking this foreign priestess. And why had Angela never mentioned this, unless she didn't know? He was going to have a talk with her.

"The voice that commands me and the priestess," the woman tilted her head, continuing to look at the priestess. "The goddess speaks in these hallways."

"Goddess," and Percy was immediately cautious.

At this, the woman turned to him. "You serve gods too, don't you? You're unusual. The voice was watching you. There's something different about you. How, we don't know. She doesn't know. But she finds you interesting. And yet, you carry remnants of the Greeks." Her eyes flickered to the glowing sword, and that's when Percy realized that to her and probably this goddess, it was curious that he was able to carry a weapon of the gods, something no mere mortal should have been able to do. And it puzzled them.

Percy was in thought. Some part of him wondered whether this woman was an accomplice, or if she had merely been tricked. "Is this goddess here?" Percy dared to ask.

"Always," the woman confirmed. "She sleeps. She guards."

"Guards what?" Percy was cautious. And why were the secrets being spilled to him? That was suspicious.

"The source of life," the woman replied. "It holds power over the gods and the godly family. She guards their very life and ability to live."

The hair on Percy's skin raised again. He'd thought the fates governed life, but he'd never considered that perhaps their immortal life essence was guarded by something else. It was no wonder the gods wanted it back. And, realizing how this affected him, since this essence also flowed in the veins of demigods and legacies, he knew that if anything happened, they would be the first to die. The gods would last a little longer. But would he last, since he was destined to become a god?

And this woman thought this goddess was guarding it.

Suddenly, everything the Olympians had told him made sense. They'd barely managed to stop this titan, and yet she had ahold of their life force. They couldn't go in without waking her. If she woke up, and Percy hadn't gotten it from her, she would use it to destroy the Olympians and create her own generation of gods and goddesses.

Realizing how serious this was, he knew he had to do something about it. The Olympians were relying on him to sneak in and steal the life source back, hopefully without being detected. But **_would_** he be able to do it without being detected?

Turning around, he asked, "How far in this cave?"

"She's underneath," the woman was now growing suspicious. "Why?"

"And you want me to wake this priestess, why?"

"Because she serves the goddess. She always has. She was imprisoned in ice long ago."

"When?" Percy was suspicious.

The woman shrugged. "Longer than I've been here."

"And how long have you been here?" Percy was a bit harsher.

Her expression changed to hardness. "A long time. Now, are you going to release the priestess or not?"

Percy began backing up. "I'm sorry, but I think you've got the wrong guy."

Having what he needed to know, Percy backed out, heading out of the cave, knowing he was being watched. While he knew now that he was going to have to go in and get this "cradle of life", at the same time, Percy wanted to consult with the gods first. And he wanted answers as to why he wasn't told about a priestess.

Finding Blackjack outside who was wary and uneasy, he mounted his steed, never putting his sword back.

'Come on, Blackjack. Let's head back.'

 **Please review! Reviews make a person's day! I made this chapter extra long!**


	11. Chapter 11: Reconsidering

**Check out my story Brotherhood Never Fades!**

 **I don't own Percy Jackson or the Inheritance Cycle.**

Chapter Eleven: Reconsidering

(Percy Point of View)

Percy was freaked out by the contact of the unknown woman. But, he needed answers, and that couldn't come until he was far enough away from the titan. So, he decided to head back to Alagaesia, at least to reconsider his tactic.

'The titan is down there?' Blackjack wanted confirmed.

Percy was pale. 'Yes,' he admitted. 'And... a priestess.'

'A priestess!' Blackjack exclaimed.

'Yes,' Percy's thoughts were soft, not sure how to handle this information. Should he tell anyone else? And what did Angela know about this? 'Do you think Angela knows?' he asked his trusted steed.

'If she knew,' Blackjack considered, neighing softly. 'Then I don't think she'd keep it from you. She's not a goddess, and she's bound to serve the gods and their divine descendants. Besides, this rival priestess would be a threat to her.'

'You're right,' Percy admitted. She wouldn't know about her, nor would any of the priestesses who had trained Angela know about her. But that didn't mean that Percy couldn't council with her, get her thoughts on the subject. That was what a priestess was for.

The light began fading, but Percy didn't care. He just wanted to get away from the creepy place. So, they decided to fly through the night.

When morning came, Percy was exhausted. They decided to stop and rest. He rested for about half the day, and then they were off again.

Following the river back, Percy decided when they camped for that night that he should go for a swim in order to recharge his batteries. However, as he swam, he couldn't help but feel that he was being watched. The fishes greeted him, but he didn't greet them back. He immediately got out of the water and headed to the surface.

'Something wrong?' Blackjack became alert.

'Yes,' Percy said. 'Very wrong. I feel like I'm being watched.'

'Still?' Blackjack was surprised. Percy nodded.

It was an uneasy night that night. Percy couldn't sleep, but he managed to rest some, though not completely. And so, he was drained when they traveled again the next day.

It took a few days for the feeling that he was being watched to wear off, but by that time they were near Alagaesia. He knew that he should probably head straight to the elves for training, but he just couldn't. So, knowing he would be welcome among the dwarves, Percy decided to stop there instead. It would also give him a chance to talk to Angela.

He was greeted with fervor, and Brom smiled at him, Hrothgar by his side. "It's good to see you back," the dwarf grunted, and Percy nodded his head in acknowledgement. He could tell they wanted to council with him, especially since he'd come to the dwarves' land from an unusual direction.

"And you," Percy countered. Then he hesitated before asking, "Is Angela around?"

Hrothgar nodded and lead the way. When Percy reached the domicile she was staying at, she stood upon seeing him. "Your highness," she curtsied, and Brom and Hrothgar let him be. She was in a soft, velvet dress today.

Immediately, as the door closed, Percy let his guard down. "I was in the caves," he told Angela, and she immediately became serious. Taking a seat and motioning for her to sit, Percy explained, "This titan... she has a priestess of her own."

Angela's eyes widened in alarm, seeing the complications. So, she hadn't known. "This complicates things," the woman began thinking.

"Considerably," Percy agreed, leaning back in his chair. "And there's another woman there as well. Who she is, I don't know. She claims she's not a priestess, and that she's a servant to the high priestess, who is trapped in ice."

There was silence after that. Percy began considering his options. Since not many people were worshiping the Olympians anymore, their power was diminished. But if the worship was converted back sooner, perhaps it would buy them enough time and put off the inevitable to a later date. After all, the power wouldn't be going to this titan necessarily.

Realizing what he had to do, Percy stood up. "I'm planning on marching on Uru'baen soon," he decided.

"So soon?" Angela was surprised. "Does that mean you're getting ready to reveal what you really are?"

"In time," Percy promised. He had the backing of the elves and the dwarves, and Brom would side with him. And, if he was revealed as the son of a god, then he was sure he might be able to gather something of a foothold in the empire. "If I understand correctly, the Varden has links to Surda?"

"And Surda is religious," Angela confirmed. "When you came, word went around to Surda. Needless to say, King Orrin is interested in you. He seems to have much faith in the prophecy."

Percy was pleased. While it wasn't what he wanted, at the same time, if he could increase the Olympian's power, then they would stand a fighting chance against this titan. But that also meant that more sacrifice would have to be done to the Olympians soon, in order to bind the people to them in service and worship.

He stood up. "In that, case, I'm going to start a war council with King Hrothgar and Brom."

"Can you trust Brom?" Angela was suspicious of the old rider. "He was elven trained."

"And I have the backing of the elves," Percy was firm. He looked directly at her. "He's seen a god, so he's on my side. I know, when it comes to Galbatorix, he'll side with me. After that, I don't know. But, with this, I should have his support." Though, he was wondering if Brom would even resist him when all things were under the Olympian's hand again. Seeing a god had changed the man's perspective.

Turning back to Angela, he instructed, "Keep what I am secret for now. It will come out soon enough. The elves... already know. I had to pull that card. And with Orik over there, he knows what I am. Given time, I'll reveal my nature to the humans. But I want to pull it off precisely and carefully to ensure victory."

"I understand," Angela was smooth, and she got up, dusting her dress off. She was back to her usual mysterious demeanor. "If his highness needs anything else, don't be afraid to call on me."

That was when Percy hesitated. "Actually," he considered for a moment. "I was hoping you could try to see the future."

A sly smile was on her face. "Are you wanting your fortune told, or is it a prophecy you're wanting?"

Percy laughed and shook his head. "We both know that a prophecy is going to be a lot stronger than fortune telling."

Her eyes then went still as she tapped into her priestess powers. But, confused, she shook her head. "The future isn't certain," she replied. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you anything. Perhaps, if I were an oracle..."

As she trailed off, Percy murmured comfortingly, "Don't worry about it. I only ask that you continue to keep a look out. I knew, when I got into this, that things would be uncertain. I'm used to operating with uncertainty."

She curtsied to him. "I always have an eye to the future, your majesty."

"Of course," Percy replied, and then stopped stunned. She had just called him his majesty. He hadn't caught on until now. It was her way of acknowledging him as the rightful king.

It took him time to get out of his stupor, but when he did, he nodded to her.

He then exited, deep in thought the whole time.

(Brom Point of View)

Percy had requested of Hrothgar that a war council be called, and Hrothgar had conceded. As head of the Varden, Brom had requested of Percy that he be allowed to join. At this, Percy had given his permission. And so, they were all assembled. Orrin, who'd had to delay a little, would be coming in a few days. But Brom doubted Percy would stay that long if the look of urgency on his face was anything to go by.

Percy stood at the table, Hrothgar on the other side, Brom to his side. "I know you're all curious as to why I've requested this," Percy was leaning, hands on the table, staring intently at everyone. "I've called this council to let everyone know that I'm going to march on Uru'baen. I'm going to attack the Empire. Whether or not anyone supports me, I will be going. But, I wanted to see if anyone will join me."

Immediately there was a stunned silence all around at Percy's bold move. Jormundar turned to Brom. "Do we even have the resources?" he asked his leader.

Seeing some of the doubt, Percy replied before Brom could even answer. "I know that this comes at an unexpected time, but there is never a right time for war. Galbatorix has already made a declaration of war on the dwarves and the Varden by sending troops here. I intend to retaliate with force before he can recover."

"It's bold," Brom's voice was soft, eyeing Percy. He knew the young man was dead serious. And while the Varden's finances were starting to be under control, at the same time it was an expensive expenditure. That said, they weren't dire like before. And, perhaps it _ **was** _ time to attack. It was time for the Varden to make a move against the king.

Hrothgar had weary eyes. "It's been a long time since I've seen war," he admitted softly. "But the way I see it, we can remain here and wait for Galbatorix to attack again, or we can join forces and strike back."

Percy nodded at him. With the dwarves backing Percy, Brom knew he needed to rethink his position. With the new deal, it would mean that weapons would be in high demand with a war going, and that meant that he wouldn't have to worry financially about the war. But his highest concern was the power that Galbatorix still held.

He knew the prophecy. He'd heard it. He knew that Percy had war experience. But, in many ways, it was unnerving to follow one so young. And yet, Percy had accomplished things already that many at his age hadn't. He'd maneuvered the Varden to his favor, as well as the dwarves. Brom had yet to hear from Islanzadi, but he didn't doubt that Percy could pull it off.

Brom considered his position. He knew the Varden wanted to remove Galbatorix. "I'm assuming you have a plan, Percy?" he asked.

"I do," Percy was smooth. "But I also understand the need to adapt. I won't have my plan so set in stone as to eliminate a better way."

"Very well," Brom reluctantly gave his support. In many ways, it was what he wanted. But he wasn't prepared for it. In many ways, he believed this day would never come, at least not while he was alive. So, for the first time, he chose to put his trust in a prophecy from long ago. "I'll concede."

"I plan on sending a letter to Surda with hopes they'll meet us on the battlefield as allies," Percy then announced, and Brom considered the maneuver wise. Surda's king was interested in Percy, though he didn't know what Percy was. But he had no doubt that Percy could maneuver the politics there, especially with what he'd seen. And that was without even announcing his heritage. "While I don't intend on stopping there, as I'm headed in the opposite direction, at the same time, I was hoping that we could have some of our troops meet on the same date."

"When do you plan to march?" Hrothgar asked.

Considering, Percy replied, "I know it takes time to make preparations for war. I intend to march around six months for now. That should enable everyone to make preparations."

"And where shall we meet?" Brom asked.

Considering, Percy replied, "I"ll tell you when the time comes. For now, I want to gauge the empire and it's movements. Then, I'll consider a more appropriate course of action."

"Very well," Hrothgar said to him. "You have my support."

"And mine," Brom gave, though he was tense. A declaration of war was a bold move. And he was still searching out for the spies in the Varden. No doubt the king would get word well in advance, though Percy would know that. Perhaps that was why he was keeping his move of where to meet for battle so secret.

Percy nodded to them. "Thank you for your support," he murmured in gratitude.

Hrothgar was firm then.

"My people have long awaited you. We know you will lead us to victory."

(Eragon Point of View)

The training had progressed, and though things calmed down with the dragons slightly, _**slightly**_ mind you, at the same time, he was growing closer to his brother. They still sparred with Vanir, and the elf had been giving them tips. A few weeks later, Vanir was looking pleased with them.

"You're decent," he was surprised to hear the elf say. And Vanir had walked off after that.

They had lessons then, and it was during that time that a familiar figure was seen coming down out of the trees. An exhausted Percy, who had worry etched on his face, landed on the Crags with his pegasus.

Immediately, everyone, including Oromis froze. The elf walked over and exchanged greetings with Percy. Seeing his face the elf asked, "Are you all right?"

Percy shook his head. Eragon wondered vaguely if the dragons would come back, but it didn't appear they would, having their own lessons to attend.

Percy plopped down, exhausted. "Problems, more problems," he grumbled, not looking at anything in particular.

Murtagh looked shocked, white faced. "You're alive!" he murmured, and Percy turned to him curiously. There was relief on his face. But Murtagh looked away, not wanting to discuss the other emotions he was undoubtedly experiencing. It would come out eventually, though. Eragon had no doubt about that.

They all waited a moment for Percy to get himself together. Ultimately, it was a matter of time before he was bombarded with questions. However, before anyone could ask him anything, Percy quickly informed them, "I just spoke to Brom. They've agreed to amass an army to attack the Empire."

"You're attacking?" Oromis was shocked. And it was a bold move, Eragon thought. But Percy knew what he was doing. He'd done it before.

His liege lord nodded. "The way I see it, the time to move is now," Percy considered. But his face was haunted, like he'd seen something he wished he hadn't. "I want to remove the king from power before... I have to engage in another war."

There was silence. "The daughter of Gaea?" Oromis asked.

Percy nodded. He sighed. "The caves, it's more complicated than I thought. Needless to say, I don't want to be fighting two enemies at once. Already, she is stirring. And I don't trust her not to awaken. I have to time things just right, or we're all dead."

At this, Percy began giving Oromis a strange look. Percy frowned. "Mind if I ask where your name comes from?" he asked the elf.

There was surprise at the sudden change of subject. After pausing, contemplating, Oromis replied, "I don't know."

Hesitation was on Percy then. "Does the name... Ormius... sound familiar?"

Slowly, Oromis shook his head. "I've never heard it."

Percy was considering, silent. "Never mind, then."

'Why do you ask?' Glaedr was quick to pop in. The dragons flew swiftly in and a sparkle of color lit the area. Anaklusmos immediately went up and nuzzled her rider, and Percy, a smile on his face, rubbed her nose affectionately. Even Blackjack trotted up and butted his head against the dragon, which she seemed to enjoy.

"One of the scrolls in the cave," Percy explained. "The name Ormius was in an old legend that was told in there. I thought that maybe the name Oromis was descended from his name. I'm well aware that languages change throughout time, and even names."

"It's interesting," Oromis considered, almost like he thought it was vaguely interesting. "But many of the elvish names are ancient, so I wouldn't really be surprised."

At this, Percy seemed more than willing to drop the subject. Eragon then piped up. "What did you find?"

'Eragon!' Saphira chastised. She curled around her rider after greeting him.

Percy was silent. Apparently he wasn't ready to reveal everything, even to his vassal.

Thorn was gentle. He was already seated next to his rider. 'You don't have to tell us,' he reassured Percy.

Shaking his head, Percy responded, "I think I will, someday. Just not today."

With that, everything was silent once more.

Oromis stood up. "Get some rest," he suggested to Percy. "We won't train today."

Percy immediately trudged off, and everyone broke up.

The rest of the day felt odd.

(Murtagh Point of View)

When Percy returned, Murtagh wasn't sure what to believe. He'd been so sure that Percy wasn't going to survive his expedition. While he still wasn't sure what the dream meant, and he was certain that the dream would come to pass eventually, at the same time he was starting to consider that perhaps Anaklusmos was right. Sometimes prophecies weren't exactly what one thought they were.

It was a relief for him. At the same time, he was nervous, knowing what he knew. He'd have to tell Percy eventually, and yet he was too afraid to. But his king had a right to know.

And yet, he was beginning to doubt that his dream was right now. However, his dreams had always come to pass. So he was confused.

After Percy departed, Anaklusmos by his side, Blackjack took to the skies. Thorn motioned for him to join him in the air. 'I thought you could use a distraction,' the dragon said.

Murtagh smiled. 'Thanks,' he told his friend. He got in the saddle, and when they were both in the air, he sighed. It was a relief to feel the wind on his face.

It was sometime after that that Thorn broached the subject. 'You seem really disturbed by this dream.'

'I don't know what to think, Thorn,' Murtagh admitted. He couldn't get the dream out of his head. 'I remember it so clearly. And yet... it didn't happen.'

'You should be glad that it didn't happen,' Thorn replied.

'And yet, I still think there's something to it.'

'Only time will tell,' the dragon replied.

Things were silent once more. And as they flew, Murtagh thought on things. Thorn was a young dragon. He and Anaklusmos were close. Saphira was hurt by this. But there was still one more egg left. And so, deep down, Murtagh knew that Saphira still had a chance to get what she desired. But try telling that to the young she-dragon.

Thorn chuckled. He'd been with him in his mind. 'Tell me,' Murtagh finally asked. 'Why did you pick her?'

'Why?' Thorn was incredulous. 'I don't really know why. All I know is that I was interested in her, and I was finally glad when she returned the affections.'

'She's a proud dragon,' Murtagh commented. 'Prouder than Saphira.'

Thorn laughed once more. 'She has a right to be. She's a direct creation of a goddess.'

'True,' Murtagh tipped his head. Then his stomach flipped as Thorn did some twirls in the air. It was still taking some getting used to.

'You'll have to get used to it,' Thorn warned.

'I know,' Murtagh was sure he was green. But he didn't protest. In the end, his dragon was right.

They flew for sometime longer, and then the dragon landed. They were done for the day.

Murtagh was exhausted.

'I'm going to take a nap.'

(Percy Point of View)

Percy was dreaming in his tree house. Triton was in front of him, in his palace, standing in front of him in the throne room. It was time to have a talk with the god.

"Life force?" he folded his arms, frowning at his godly brother. "Why did did no one mention this? And why did no one mention the priestess to me?"

Triton was immediately alarmed. "Priestess?" he asked in shock, clearly never having heard of her. That's when Percy knew that the women were an unexpected complication that the gods had not been expecting.

"High Priestess," Percy was firm. "She's frozen in ice. And she has a servant."

At this, agitated, Triton began pacing. "This is not good," he murmured.

"I know," and Percy was worried. "You're expecting me to go in and steal the gods' life force, and she has two people to work against me!"

"Who aren't divine," Triton reminded him.

"But she is!" Percy was dead serious. And, not for the first time, he was scared. "You're putting the balance of **_everything_** on **_one person_**! If I can't pull this off, we're all going to die!"

Triton stopped pacing. "Be calm," he commanded his brother. "This isn't the first time you've been in danger. Trust me, with this important a task, the Olympians wouldn't just hand it out to anyone. They've put their _**best**_ in."

This didn't do much to reassure Percy, but it did calm his fears. "They have confidence in you," Triton continued, placing a hand on his brother's shoulders. "And they've done their best to even the odds by making you three quarters god. We all know it's a risk. But, if anyone can do this, you can."

"Let's hope the prophecy is right," Percy grumbled.

"It is," Triton replied, but even he looked worried. And that was when Percy knew: if he couldn't pull this off, no one could. His brother was lost in thought. Then, he shook his head. "Since when did she get a priestess?" he murmured to himself.

"Who knows," Percy replied, even though he knew the comment wasn't addressed to him. "It was probably after the Olympians left. After all, no one knew about her. How, I don't know, but she's been alive for a very long time. Probably like Angela has been. Though Angela is probably older than her."

"So she made a priestess," Triton considered the information. He was back to swimming back and forth. They both knew the complication. By having a priestess, the titan would have a little extra power since she was worshiped. And if more people started worshiping her, then the Olympians and demigods were in trouble. And with a priestess, the titan would be able to have worship done to her. Not to mention, the titan might find ways to have her priestess gain more worshipers to her.

Suddenly, Triton turned to Percy. "You're planning on marching on Uru'baen?"

Percy nodded. "I want the worship converted back sooner. I feel it will give me the edge."

Triton nodded. "Wise plan. And tell me, who will answer your call?"

"All," Percy replied. "As far as I can see, anyways. The elves will come. The dwarves and the Varden. I'm pretty sure I can get Surda to back me."

Triton nodded again, pleased. "I see no need for you to delay. The sooner you attack, the better, Percy. I know she's stirring more and more. Ever since you've visited her, she's been growing stronger."

"Are you saying I should attack now?" Percy asked.

Triton frowned. "Maybe. Maybe not. It's hard to say. But waiting six months may not be wise."

"I understand," Percy replied, rethinking things. He was fairly sure he could pull this off. He was only waiting because he was wanting Murtagh and his vassal to have more training. As it was, Oromis was speeding up the training. But he couldn't be sure that they'd ever have enough training.

"I hate to say it, but until we're ready to crown you, we won't be allowing any more demigods or legacies to pass," Triton warned him. "It's simply to dangerous. We have to save them for when they are really needed. And your coronation."

"I understand," Percy replied.

Things began blacking out. The dream was ending. "Don't be afraid," was his brother's last words.

Percy woke up.

(Oromis Point of View)

It wasn't long until Percy revealed that he was planning on attacking the capital. Though Oromis had been expecting it, Islanzadi wasn't ready. They were in front of her throne, and Islanzadi's shocked demeanor was echoed on everyone. She turned to Oromis. "How much training have Murtagh, Thorn, Eragon, and Saphira had?"

Glaedr was the one to reply. 'We'll continue to train them during the war. They'll fight alongside us, we've decided. Plus, with Oromis restored to perfect health again, and my paw healed, we're more than ready to match the king.'

"It could be worse," Oromis was careful to say. He didn't want to dissuade Islanzadi as he knew that Percy wouldn't appreciate them saying 'no'. Plus, Percy's reason for wanting to attack was reasonable. It might not be wise to delay. If Percy thought it was necessary sooner, there had to be a reason. "Eragon and Murtagh have survived in battle before. I'm less concerned about the king considering we have a demigod." And what he said was true.

"But?" Islanzadi raised an eyebrow.

Percy was the one to pipe up at this. "I don't want to fight on two forces. The titan is already stirring. The way I see it, it's better to have Galbatorix out of the way before we have to fight **_her_**."

Murmurs spread. It was a disturbing turn of events. And yet, the prophecy had warned about it.

Now Islanzadi looked like she was reconsidering. "A war on two fronts doesn't sound good," she agreed. Then she looked up. "Very well. I am ready to go to war. We've stayed in Du Weldonvarden long enough. It's time to let the world know that elves still exist."

"Agreed," Oromis replied softly.

The truth was, he was worried for a different reason. Percy was powerful, and if this titan was powerful enough to be a problem for Percy, he worried what that meant for the world. He feared that there was no way that even a dragon rider could match the divine realm considering what he'd seen of Percy. He doubted a dragon rider could match a demigod or legacy. The divine were a whole new league.

That meant that no matter how much training his students got, apart from Percy, they were always at a disadvantage.

With everything set, Percy looked happy. "When do you want to invade?" Islanzadi asked.

Percy considered. "Word has to get around that I've changed the date. I'll give the location last minute. But, I was thinking in two weeks, provided that the messengers can get to the dwarves, the Varden, and Surda that fast."

Islanzadi raised her chin. "Elves move fast," she reminded the demigod.

Percy nodded. "Then it's set." He nodded once more and moved backwards, never turning his back on the elven queen.

When he was gone, Islanzadi turned to Oromis. "Are you concerned?" she asked, and it was only then that she was letting more of her concern show.

Oromis considered. "There is little we know about the divine realm," he admitted. "We've only been able to pull some things from the historical records. And, considering what we've learned just from watching Percy, I think the divine realm could prove a far greater threat than Galbatorix ever did."

"It was what I was fearing," Islanzadi admitted. She shook her head, coming out of her thoughts. "I don't like the sound of a divine war coming up."

"Nor do I," Oromis whispered. He and Glaedr looked at each other. It wasn't what they had imagined when they imagined overthrowing Galbatorix and reestablishing the riders. Glaedr grunted in agreement.

With everything done and said, Oromis backed up, nodding respectfully to his queen.

He exited.

(Percy Point of View)

The following week had been a hassle. Not only had he had to contact everyone about the change of plans, and rely on Brom to contact the King of Surda, but he'd spent the day going over battle plans. And when he went to sleep that night, he'd gone over the plans with his beloved Annabeth.

"You'll be fine," Annabeth reassured him. She was seated on her throne, looking very regal. "You always are." And there was a soft smile on her face.

But that wasn't what concerned Percy the most. And Annabeth could tell this. "What is it?" she finally asked him.

The throne room was vast, and there was no one there. Percy began pacing, head in his hands. "It's just," he began. "Every war... we always loose people."

Annabeth was silent. Then, "You've grown close to some of the mortals there, haven't you?"

"Yes," Percy admitted. While he didn't want to be a liege lord, at the same time, Percy was concerned about Eragon. Eragon had a tendency to do things without thinking. Then again, so did he. But Percy had learned to be street smart, whereas Eragon hadn't yet. And then there was Murtagh, whom Percy had gotten close to as well. And his path was already marked by the gods. Percy didn't know what he felt about that. That could be both good and bad.

Then there were the elves. There was Arya. Despite not getting along initially, he was starting to be more relaxed around her. Dare he say, they could see somewhat eye to eye now that she accepted that the divine existed. And she'd been helpful on more than one occasion. Oromis was kind, if not strict. But he was willing to work with Percy and respected him.

"So many people are relying on me," Percy murmured. "I know we've always succeeded when faced with something in the godly realm, but I always wonder if there's going to be something that I face that will be too much for me."

"We all do," Annabeth admitted. She was worried, he could tell. But she didn't want to pressure and burden him more. "Have you heard any more news?" Percy asked his fiancée."

"None," Annabeth admitted. "Just to prepare for war, which is the usual. It makes me think: the gods are keeping this quiet for a reason. There has to be something more going on."

"I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to say," Percy admitted. "But, I think I'll tell you more if I can at my coronation. I know you'll be there."

"Yes," Annabeth smiled. And with a wave of her hand, a card appeared. "I got the invitation."

"It will be small," Percy admitted. "But, despite the celebrations, there's something I don't want to say over in dreams that I want to say when you're present. That, and I want to get our wedding plans going."

"A wedding would be good," Annabeth gave some thought. "I have my mom and dad's permission. Not that it would make much difference, since we govern our own countries. But, it would help make it legitimate among the mortals on our world. Then again, with the mist, and being told to act like the royalty we are, it may not. It may end up being recognized in other countries anyways, since we _**are**_ our own country."

"I was thinking a Greek and Roman theme," Percy admitted. "But what do **_you_** want to do?"

"I like that," Annabeth admitted. She smirked. "Let's talk about it at your coronation."

"Sounds good," Percy grinned.

The dream ended. Percy woke up.

(A week later)

The elves had spent the week preparing to invade Alagaesia. Meanwhile, Percy had received word back. Surda was joining in the efforts. And according to Brom, the King of Surda looked forward to meeting with him.

Murtagh, being noble, had purchased full plate armor from the elves. And, he'd graciously updated his brother's armor to full plate as well. Meanwhile, Percy was planning on wearing his Greek attire. Though, as always, he'd have his Roman set along.

Oromis' armor was ancient, but the elf looked more confident. Ever since having been healed, he was somewhat more at ease. Though, there was still stress on his face. Glaedr was wearing some protection, but not all.

That left the dragons. But, Anaklusmos was stubborn. 'I need no armor!' she snapped at her rider when he suggested that he purchase at least **_some_** protection for her. 'I'm a creation of the sea!'

'You're pride will be the death of you,' Percy warned dryly. And though she was somewhat furious, she couldn't deny her rider when he insisted that he give her at least fifty percent protection. 'Just for the vital areas,' he tried to appease her.

'Fine!' she snapped and took off, launching into the sky.

Blackjack, who had been grazing nearby chuckled. He trotted off. He would be wearing the Greek set that Percy had had made for his steed before going. There was a Roman set to, but Percy had it stored away. He wanted to match, not that the others would know the difference. 'She's as proud as dragons get,' the pegasus was dry.

Percy rolled his eyes. 'We may argue now, but she'll be grateful to me later. Let's just hope that she'll cooperate and be measured. I don't want to loose her.'

'Aye, and the gods will not be creating more dragons until we win the war against the Titan,' Blackjack commented. Then he took off after Anaklusmos.

So far, things had been going good. And while Anaklusmos had mumbled the whole time, she'd reluctantly let the elves measure her.

By the end of the week they were ready to march. Anaklusmos had armor on her, just as the other dragons did. Percy was full in Greek armor. While he would be riding Anaklusmos mostly, at the same time, for the sake of his position, he'd need to ride his pegasus part of the time. It was a symbol of his divine station and that he was a descendant of the gods.

Islanzadi headed her elves, dressed in elegant armor with jewels on it. Beside her were Percy, Oromis, Murtagh, Eragon, and their dragons. Blackjack was behind Anaklusmos, and he nodded towards the elven queen. They had agreed to journey through the Hadarac desert with part of the army to the Burning Plains while others swept from Marna heading down to Uru'baen.

"The Burning plains," Islanzadi murmured. She would be going with Percy to there. "It will be high time to remind Galbatorix that we have not forgotten what he and the Forsworn have done."

"I intend to come from all directions if I can," Percy admitted. He'd put some deep thought into his next move. He and the riders would be breaking away to head towards Carvahall. The intention was to petition Roran, Therinsford, and Carvahall to join them. While Percy knew that Varden sympathizers existed out that way, at the same time, he knew they would be persuaded to join him directly instead of the Varden because of who he was. They were religious.

Besides, it was high time that he started his own band.

By knowing which locations were more likely to give him the support, Percy hoped that he could make the bid for the throne easier. He wasn't ready to call on his demigod relatives just yet. So, he'd have to raise an army himself.

Oromis had agreed with him to this expedition. Mainly, Percy suspected it was because Islanzadi wanted to track him. He'd tolerate it for now. But if necessary, he was willing to go separate ways. That, and Oromis was independent enough that he was sure that he'd filter what he gave to Islanzadi.

He was fairly sure he understood what Islanzadi Drotting was doing. She was still unsure of him. While she recognized that Percy was the only legitimate king in Alagaesia, apart from Hrothgar, and while she acknowledged the prophecy, at the same time, the divine realm was so new to her. She wanted to know what to anticipate, especially from Percy's rule.

Oromis was also curious. But he was more likely to observe. He had a feeling that Oromis wanted to know what Percy's reign was likely to be like as well.

Percy wouldn't say no. After all, it was his way to gauge how these nations were going to react to him. That, and he was keeping his plans flexible, just in case.

Islanzadi looked to him. "It's not my army," Percy reminded her. There were political reasons and personal reasons Percy was leaving her in charge. For one, if he took control of the armies, it was making a statement that he was more integrated in the elvish nation than he wanted to be. He'd rather have autonomy.

Islanzadi raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Move out," she ordered.

They did so.

(A week later)

Brom and the Varden were already there when they arrived. Islanzadi greeted Brom respectfully, and surprisingly, with warmth. The Surdans were also there.

Percy's arrival had caused murmurs, especially the appearance of Anaklusmos and Oromis and Glaedr. No doubt rumors of Oromis' survival would go around soon.

While Percy set up his regal Grecan tent, Oromis walked up. They both exchanged respectful greetings. Then, Oromis lowered his voice. "You may be the prince of prophecy, but this whole set up is still your idea. Islanzadi is wary to walk on your toes. So the question is, what are you going to reveal?"

Percy gave it some thought. "I know there's an army out there," he nudged his nose in the direction of the north to the enemy army they would face the next day. "I have no trouble giving them the prophecy. But before I say the other part, I'm going to gauge them first."

The tent was up somewhat, and Anaklusmos landed. She was in full armor. 'In all honesty, you're issuing a challenge anyway. What's the big deal?' she lightly scolded her rider.

"The titan," Percy said aloud when he saw Oromis agree with her. "Let's not forget, **_she's_** probably watching. The moment I say anything, she'll know **_exactly_** what I am. Time will be cut even shorter then."

"So you're gauging how quickly you'll win the war," Oromis realized.

Percy nodded. "Exactly. If I can get them to switch by showing them I'm the prince of prophecy, I'd rather go that route. But, if necessary, I'll pull my card. But I intend to speak to them before battle."

"Not all will be persuaded by mere prophecy," Oromis warned.

"But if I can still buy time, then I will," Percy was firm.

Oromis acknowledged his plan. "It's not our call, anyways," Oromis murmured.

Something softened in Percy, then. "If there's something on your mind, you don't need permission to say it," he pointed out. "I don't want this to be a relationship with nations where I give the orders, they follow. Where's the teamwork in that?"

"Forgive me," Oromis murmured. "It's just, I'm well aware of your position."

Percy huffed in frustration. He was slightly ranting at this point. "You know, Arya once asked me why I didn't reveal what I did earlier to her. You know why? **_That's_** why. Seriously! I'm just a normal teenager, with normal concerns! Is everybody going to treat me differently because of what I am?"

Oromis seemed startled by this, even surprised. Percy began walking away, somewhat angry. He was well aware that Oromis wanted to say more to him, but he didn't want to hear it at the moment. Oromis walked away then.

"Just great," Percy murmured to himself. Then, in a mocking voice, he mimicked the gods. "Just go over there and be king, Percy! It'll be great, Percy! Bah! There goes my college plans! There goes my senior year plans! Yeah. Just great! Go be a ruler instead of living a normal life like the average teenager!"

He started muttering to himself in Greek, Anaklusmos lifting the tent up so that he could put some of the supports on underneath it. A short time later, some footsteps approached. "Go away!" he murmured. It could only be elves as he was in the elf camp.

"No," a voice came, Arya Drottingu.

Another voice came. Vanir's. "I don't think you'll bite our heads off if we intrude since you're not like that, Percy."

Percy sighed. He was inside setting his tent up. Anaklusmos growled. 'Lack of manners,' she grumbled.

In they walked and Percy grumbled. He turned around, exhausted. "What do you want?"

"To talk," Arya raised an eyebrow. She sat down on his bed without his permission. "Is that **_really_** why you didn't tell me at first?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "Figure you overheard," he muttered.

"You were really loud," Vanir pointed out.

"I'll have to watch my tone then," Percy deadpanned.

"But you didn't answer my question," Arya pushed.

He sighed again, frustrated. How to explain it? "I don't want to be king," he finally admitted. He started putting things away and polishing his armor. "But what I want has little bearing."

They both seemed surprised. "You... don't want to be king?" Vanir tried to figure out.

"No," Percy slapped the rag on his chest plate, looking up. "It's a mere reminder that I'm different from everybody else."

"You don't want to be different," Arya assumed.

"No, that's not what I mean!" Percy exclaimed, it all coming out. He huffed. "It's just... I wanted to have somewhat of a normal life. I'm used to knowing I'm different. But it would have been **_nice_** to have had a semblance of a normal life for once. Even more, it would have been nice to have a break from war."

He set his chest plate down, his eyes a thousand miles away. "Most teenagers don't go to war. They don't have to deal with life and death situations. I'm well aware that as monarch, I'll be dealing with life and death situations. Life will be in my hands. If someone murders, I have to hold them accountable. But, as a teenager, if I lived normally, I wouldn't have to worry about that. I could... well... my concerns would be less severe things. I could have what others have without having to worry about... never mind."

He went back to shining his armor. "No," Arya finally admitted. "I think I understand. It's not the responsibility you would have had if you weren't what you were."

"Exactly," Percy admitted. "Most kids where I'm from graduate high school and go to college. They get a job. They don't worry about ruling countries or waging war."

"Do you resent it?" Vanir asked.

"I envy them," Percy admitted. He looked up. "I've watched friends... family... die. All for fighting for what they believe in. The average kid never goes through that. Being different is so overrated."

"So it's not just waging war, then. You're giving up the lifestyle you want," Arya realized.

"I've basically known for a while that I'll never have the lifestyle I want," Percy was dry. "But, I thought I could at least have _**some**_ of it."

"And your father telling you to come and conquer Alagaesia changed all that," Vanir realized.

"Pretty much," Percy shrugged. "It's not like I could tell him no. That, and people aren't genuine with you once they know who they are. They can't be themselves."

Things were silent after that. "It bothers you," Vanir realized. "Being treated like you're special."

"It more than bothers me," Percy admitted, shining his plates with a lot of force. "It's in a way being ostracized. You never know who is you friend, and it's hard to find people who treat you _**normally**_ , and well, they're not genuine. It's all on putting a good show on."

He didn't know why he was telling them all this. He didn't know why he was confiding in them. But it felt **_right_**. He felt like it was meant to be.

Despite the silence that followed, he could tell that they knew they'd gotten a glimpse of him that they'd never seen before. And from their expressions, he could tell that he wasn't what they were expecting.

"Is that why you were so willing to be hands off?" Arya wondered aloud.

Percy shrugged. "What the gods want isn't necessarily what I want. I know they at least want worship, and I have to ensure that. But, if I can have less to do, well, less is more for me."

Vanir chuckled. "Less of doing what you don't want to do."

"Exactly."

"And so you wage war for someone else, but not for yourself," Arya concluded.

Percy hesitated. "I know what will happen if _**I**_ don't do that, and I don't like it," Percy whispered. "My family is staking a lot to defeat this titan, for everyone's sake. Imagine everyone being wiped out so that she can start over, have things as she wants. _**That's**_ what will happen."

A shiver went down everyone's spine. "So it's just as much for you as for your family," Vanir realized.

"And everyone in Alagaesia," Percy concluded. "And many worlds. If you think that this titan will stop at this world, think again. She _**must**_ be stopped."

"So much at stake," Arya shook her head. None the less, the elves got up.

He didn't know why he was suddenly wishing they were staying. "Don't be a stranger," he told them.

They seemed puzzled at the unusual expression, none the less they seemed to understand it's meaning. "It was... strangely good to talk," Percy admitted.

And a strange friendship was developing between them. It wasn't what he was expecting.

They nodded to him and exited.

Percy spent the remainder of the evening relaxing. 'You know,' Anaklusmos told him. 'Maybe that's why you'd be the perfect king. You'd be a friend, not a ruler.'

'Bah!' he told his companion. 'I don't want to be king! Or emperor!'

Anaklusmos chuckled.

'Suit yourself.'

 **I know this is a bit shorter chapter than normal, but this was the appropriate place to end this.**

 **Please review!**


End file.
